Red River Blue
by gillyflower34
Summary: Merle Dixon was living in a prison, surrounded by people that would rather see him dead. Being hunted by the governor. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, his estranged wife showed up at the gates with his two teenage daughters. Rated M for violence and eventual sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

**** Since what I need most is one more WIP I decided to throw this story up. It's an idea have been thinking on a while. Leave me a review and tell me how you like it. ****

Red River Blue

Chapter 1

The water felt colder now that a cloud had drifted across the sky and blocked the sun from shining on their backs. Wren could feel her feet sinking a little into the sandy bottom of the creek. Her arms were starting to get tired from the awkward postition she was holding them in. A piece of her blonde hair had come loose and it was tickling her nose. But she held her body perfectly still.

They had let a few smaller fish pass by them. But the one that was heading their way now was much bigger. Wren flicked her eyes towards her sister. The older girl gave her a nod. Not an obvious movement. Just a slight tilt of her head. But it was enough to let Wren know to get ready. This was the one.

The girls held their positions until the fish was almost on top of them. Wren could almost taste the fish already, along with the moisture in the humid georgia air. Rainbow trout wasn't her favorite. But there was no reason to be picky. These days anything was better than an empty belly.

"Now!," Harley hissed. Both girls yanked up on the large section of volleyball net, hoisting the large fish out of the water and into the air. They moved quickly, water pushing up her legs and wetting the legs of Wren's jeans even though she had rolled them up as high as she could. Her sister's pants were still dry. She was older. And taller. No matter how much Wren grew, she felt like she was never going to catch up to Harley, who was so tall now that even Momma had to tilt her head up to look at her.

Harley grabbed her bat and gave the fish a good knock on the head to stop it from flopping about.

"Mom!," Wren yelled. Harley smacked her on the shoulder and told her to _shuddup_. Wren ought to know better than to be hollering for Momma like a damn toddler. The dead ones were attracted to noise. The girls would kill them if they had to, but it was better to just be quiet and not attract them in the first place.

"Sorry," Wren whispered, her hand over he mouth now. She knew better than to yell like that. Her eyes were wide and alert as she scanned the woods around them to make sure she hadn't attracted any unwanted attention. Sure enough she saw one of the dead heading their way. It was a real nasty looking on too. It's clothes were tattered and one eye was dangling from the socket as it shuffled along.

"Harley," Wren said, yanking on her sister's shirt with the fear sounding plainly in her voice. She pointed at the monster.

"You were tha one that was being loud," Harley told her, "kill it yerself." Couldn't Wren see she was busy gutting this fish. Harley glanced at her sister. Wren was backing up, her bare feet sliding down the incline of the creek. Trying to put some distance between her and the moaming hissing monster that had it's sights set on her. She wasn't paying attention to where she was stepping. Instead Wren was staring at the dead thing like she had never seen one before. She didn't even have her knife out. Wren went to take another step back and found there was nothing but empty air behind her. She fell down into the creek, water splashing everywhere.

Harley wiped at the presperation on her brow and got to her feet. She walked right up to the dumb stumbling thing and stabbed it through the eye, dropping it instantly. Then she hurried back over and fished her sister out of the creek. If anyone was dumb enough to drown in a few feet of water, it was Wren.

"Ya really need to stop acting like such a baby," Harley told the girl after she sat her wet ass down on the grass next to the creek. Even now Wren was looking over at the dead man with big scared eyes, even though it was obvious Harley had already got it in the brain. She acted like a real scare baby sometimes.

Harley waded back into the water, cleaning her knife off carefully before she used it on the fish again. They were going to cook the fish, but she still didn't want to get any dead rotten blood on it. The sound of boots crunching on leaves caught her attention. She gripped the knife tight in her hand, but relaxed once she saw it was only her mother.

"You girls okay?," River asked as she stepped over the dead body. She had heard Wren calling for her. The girls knew not to yell unless something was wrong.

"Wren started up yellin' because we caught a fish," Harley informed her mother. She was hoping her mother would scold the girl, but of course that didn't happen. She knelt down and hugged Wren to her instead.

"How did you get all wet?," she asked. Wren hugged her momma back. She glanced at her sister before she answered.

"I fell down while we were trying to catch the fish," Wren lied. If she told her momma that she fell in because Harley was telling her to kill that dead man herself, Wren knew Harley would get in a lot of trouble. And she didn't want that.

Wren was a terrible liar. As soon as she looked at her sister before she answered, River knew her younger daughter was covering for the older one. But since the girls both seemed fine, and they had managed to catch dinner with a volleyball net, River decided to let it go.

"Come'on," River said, hauling her throughly dampened daughter to her feet, "We kin hang yer clothes out over the fire while we cook the fish."

They walked back to the small campsite they had been using. It was a rough circle of trees surrounded by barbed wire. They had not built it, only happened upon it and decided it looked like a good spot to stay for a few days. The junky camper they had been living in was parked nearby. Pointed out towards the road in case they needed to leave in a hurry. They had slept in it during the winter, huddled together under a pile of blankets. But now that it was warmer out, the inside of it got stuffy and uncomfortably hot in a hurry.

River took the fish, lying it down on the small fold out table they had. She used the back of her knife to get the scales off. There was a large pot of water bubbling over the small fire she had made. Harley moved it off and set it on the ground a few feet away to cool down so they could drink it. Cold water and iced tea. Her most missed luxury items from before the turn. That and her flat iron.

Harely's mother and sister had long soft silky hair that looked good even when they got up in the morning. Harley's was a mess of wiry blonde frizz. Tight fluffy curls that poofed out around her face and tangled up in matts and snarls no matter how many times she combed it.

In her old life, or her before life as Wren liked to call it, Harley had washed and dried her hair once every three days. It took her an hour to straighten it out after it was dry. It was the only was to keep it manageable. Sometimes her mom would help, if she wasn't too busy at the bakery. Her mother was fond of telling her that she got her curls from her father. Just another reason to hate that old drunk bastard, Harley thought as she shoved a random curl out of her face.

River watched her daughters out of the corner of her eye while she got the big fish ready to be cooked. Little Wren had one of her books out. She was lying belly down on her sleeping bag, chewing on the skin on her thumb. Holding the book with her other hand, she was swinging her legs back and forth with the ankles hooked together. The girl was dressed in a pair of dry shorts and a tank top since her clothes were hung up to dry out.

Wren might still be acting like a little girl, but her body was changing. Her hips were getting wider and she was going to need to start wearing a bra soon. River smiled, thinking that meant she would soon have two hormonal teenage girls to deal with. As if the end of the world wasn't enough. Wren would be easy. She had been easy ever since she was born. Harley was another story.

The older girl was sitting sideways in the green camp chair she favored, her long legs hanging over one of the armrests. Even now as she was staring out into the woods with her head resting on her elbow, she had a scowl on her face. River bit back a smile. Harley looked just like her father when she made that face. Not that she would ever tell the girl that. Not unless she didn't want to be spoken to for a week.

"Penny for your thoughts," River said, smoothing her hand down over the girl's wild curls as she passed by.

"Was wondering if we are ever going to find a safe place to stay," Harley said. There was something there in the tone of her voice. Her mother picked up on it right away.

"Got some place particular in mind?," River asked. Harley was the smart one. She had been able to read by the time she was four. Never had to study in school to pass her tests. When she felt the urge to pick up a book, she would devour the entire thing in one day. If Harley had an idea of where to go, River was more than willing to listen.

"When we were walking the creek today," Harley said, "looking for a place to fish, we saw a place. Looked like some kind of jail." Jails were built to keep people in. But they might also be used to keep people out. Dead people. The high fences and gates had stuck in Harley's mind.

"Must be the West Georgia Correctional Facility," River mentioned. She had not realized they were that close to it. But it was the only prison in the area. So that had to be what Harley saw.

"You know it?," Harley asked.

"Yeah, I visited your dad there a few times," River admitted. She had even taken Harley there once. But the girl was too young to remember that.

At the mention of her father, Harley rolled her eyes. River laughed at her. There was no point in holding a grudge against someone that was more than likely dead anyway. She flicked a little water in the pan she had over the fire to make sure it was hot enough. It hissed and sizzled. So she flopped the fish in skin side down. The crispy skin was Harley's favorite part.

"Maybe after lunch we should go check it out?," River suggested. She figured the place was probably overrun or already occupied by another group, but it wouldn't hurt to look. And she figured she ought to offer the girl a peace offering since she had the audacity to mention Harley's father in casual conversation. She swore that girl liked to pretend she didn't even have a father. Like River found her in a cabbage patch or something. _Be happy I have bad taste in men, or you would have never been born._ Wren was a little more neutral on the subject. But then again she never really knew the man. They had already been long since divorced by the time Wren came along.

With bellies full of fish, the girls crept silently through the woods. Wren stepped on a stick, snapping it. Harley through her a dirty look. So River took the younger girl by the hand and shifted her behind them.

"Step where I step," she whispered. Wren nodded, looking embarrassed. Wren knew she should have been watching where she was walking. She had gotten distracted, trying to peer through the thick trees and get a look at the tall fences on the other side.

The noise brought a walker stumbling towards them. Harley took it down silently with and arrow from her bow. Then she stepped carefully through a pricker patch and took her arrow back. It pulled out with a sickening sucking noise and Harley wiped the thick black blood that was clinging to it off on a bush. She signaled with her other hand. Towards a big tree that was close to the edge of the woods. They could hide behind it and get a good look inside the prison yard.

Once they got close, Rover lifted up the binoculars that were hanging from her neck and took a look though the glasses. At first it was about what she expected. Lots of dead wandering around. But then River spotted something else. She was shocked at what she saw. There were dead all over the place, and a crashed van inside the fences. But in the middle of the wandering herd, there was a woman walking through. With a dead man on a stick.

"Whatdaya see mom?," Wren asked. She was shifting her weight from one foot to the other. River pulled the cord of the binoculars from around her neck and handed the glasses to her younger daughter. She pointed where the girl should look.

"Some lady's in there, with a dead man on a leash," River said. It looked more like one of those things the people from the pound used to catch mean dogs. Like a noose on a stick. She wasn't sure what the right name for it was.

Harley had her own pair of glasses. And she shifted to look at the spot her mom was indicating. There was a woman. She was parading right through a large group of dead cannibals. And they weren't paying her much attention. It was weird. Then Harley looked further up. She saw more people up there. Running around with guns.

"Give mom the binoculars back," Harley told her sister. She nudged the girl with her elbow. It was not a request. There was an urgency in her voice.

"What is it?," River asked her daughter as she fumbled to refocus the glasses after Wren had got done fooling and messing with them.

"Up there, behind the second fence," Harley said. She was pointing with her finger, but had not stopped staring through her binoculars. Not even for one second. "I think I saw Dad."


	2. Chapter 2

Red River Blue

Chapter 2

 **** It will become more obvious in this chapter, but I just wanted to clarify that River is Merle's ex-wife, not Daryl's. Also the title Red River Blue is also the name of a Blake Shelton song. Since that was where I got the idea for the title and the name of the main character, I thought I should give credit. As always read, enjoy and review. ****

River only got a quick look at the man before he was gone from her sight. Heading back inside the prison walls. But one glance was all she needed to know for sure that it was him. From her best estimate, close to 95 percent of the population of Georgia had been killed by whatever sickness made people die and come back as brainless cannibals. Ninety-five percent. But out of the few people that were left alive, of course one of them had to be Merle Dixon. She should have know it. He was too mean to die.

Wren was poking and prodding at her, wanting the binoculars back. So River handed them back to the girl. She had already seen more than enough. More than anything, she wished she could unsee what she had already looked at.

"What are we going to do?," Harley asked. River glanced at the girl. Unlike her younger sister, who seemed more excited by the idea of finding her father alive, River saw her own conflicting emotions mirrored back at her on her older daughter's face.

"I don't know," River said. Being a mom had been hard enough before the turn. Even then she had always felt like she was flying by the seat of her pants. She had been so young when she had Harley, they had practically raised each other. And now that the world had ended, her stress was a constant weight on her shoulders. Every single decision she made was life or death. Her girls looked to her for anwsers and she just didn't have any.

This place looked secure. River knew her and her girls would be safer inside these high fences than they were outside in the woods with nothing but barbed wire to separate them from the teeming masses of walking death. And Merle was in there. He was a bastard. But he was a tough ass bastard. In this new world, having him around might be an asset instead of a liability. He could help her keep the girls safe. She wouldn't be contantly torn between leaving them alone or taking them with her into possibly dangerous situations.

Just when River thought she had made up her mind, floods of terrible memories came washing back over her. Things she had let go and tried to forget when she was sure Merle was dead and she would never see him again. She lifted her hand up, running the tip of her finger over the crook in the bridge of her nose. An almost unconcious gesture that had brought her strength over the years. Whenever Merle came back around, and he always came back around, sobered up and trying to beg her back, she would feel the spot where he broke her nose.

Occasionally friends would ask her why she didn't just get it fixed. The sugery was quick and simple one they would tell her. The reason was hard for River to explain. Especially when she had already lied and told them she broke her nose in a skateboarding accident when she was a kid. The reason she wouldn't fix the break in her nose was because it served as a physical reminder of how bad things had gotten between her and the father of her children. Everytime she looked in the mirror, River was reminded of all the reasons that she would never ever take him back. The drinking. The other women. The std he gave her while she was pregnant with Wren. The drugs. And most of all the way he got when he was on the drugs. Violent and mean as a rattle snake.

She reminded herself it had not always been that way between them. They had been happy once. Back when she had been young and stupid. She had thought he hung the moon back then. The first day of summer vacation during the summer before she went into high school. That day Merle Dixon had been her hero.

 _River kicked a crumpled beer can out of her way and headed up the porch steps. She tried knocking on the front door first. There was no answer. So she walked around to the back of the trailer, tackle box in one hand and two fishing poles resting across her shoulder. The lines dangled down a little from the tips of them, swinging as she walked._

 _The grass in the yard was overgrown. So River stepped carefully, watching for snakes and the angry groundhog that was partial to sleeping in the loose insulation under the Dixon's trailer. She got up on her tiptoes, trying to peek in the window, but she was too short. So she set the tacklebox on the ground and used it as a stepping stool._

 _River used the sleeve of her tattered old flannel to wipe a clean spot on the window. Then she peeked inside. There was a boy shaped lump on the bed. She giggled and tapped on the window._

 _"Get yer lazy ass up Daryl," she hollered, "it's almost noon!" She knocked again. "Come'on, yer supposedta go fishin' with me today." Daryl was ususually up and out of his house long before this time of day. He liked to get up and clear out before his dad woke up._

 _"Daryl!," she yelled again, louder this time. The lump didn't move. River huffed out a sigh of annoyance and thought about leaving and going fishing by herself. But her momma told her she could only walk all the way down to the lake if she took a friend with her. Her momma didn't like her going places by herself._

 _River headed back around to the front door. She tapped again, a little harder than the last time. The door swung open, the rusty hinges squeaking in protest. River hesitated on the porch. It seemed rude just to walk into someone's house. Especially Daryl's. He was adamant about never letting her inside. And now she knew why. There was garbage and discared mail littered all over the floor. In the center of the room, there was an old pizza box with a dried up slice of pizza still left inside._

 _"Daryl?" She called inside, hoping her friend would hear her and come out so she wouldn't have to go inside and get him. It was dark in there and it smelled like an old sneaker had a baby with a bottle of jack._

 _River set her tackle box and fishing rods down on the porch. She hesitated in the doorway a moment, and then quietly stepped inside. She knew which room was Daryl's from the outside, but from the inside of the trailer everything was backwards. She counted the windows. One. The tall thin one that must be the bathroom. And the next room must be Daryl's. The bedroom door was open. River stepped inside, shoving at the lump on the bed. The blanket pushed off, revealing not Daryl, but a pile of dirty laundry instead. Her stomach bottomed out, like she was on an elevator and it moved upwards with a lurch._

 _"Fuckin' hell," River cursed. Now she was trespassing in someone's house for no reason at all. Fuck fishing. She needed to get the hell out of here quick. River turned and walked quickly back out of the room, her thongs sandals slapping against the bottoms of her feet with each step._

 _She knew right away something was wrong. There was not as much light coming in from the front door. Because it was being blocked someone's large body. River sucked in her breath. She had seen the man from afar a few times. Mostly stumbling around drunk in the front yard screaming. Never from this close. He looked like Daryl's older brother expect even older and with a beard. Daryl's dad. River realized she didn't even know his name._

 _"What in the hell do we have here?," the man asked. His voice was deep and he had a thick southern drawl. He was slurring his words a little. Which River was smart enough to know meant the man was drunk._

 _"Uh," she stuttered, "I was lookin' fer Daryl... the d-d-door was open."_

 _"Lookin' fer Daryl huh?," the man asked, like that was the most amusing thing he had heard all day. He laughed and the sound of it sent a chill up River's back. The man's eyes stared down at her feet and moved his gaze slowly up her body. Like he was eating her up with his eyes._

 _River was wearing a cheap kmart pair of flip flops and her mother's white bikini. The bathing suit she had didn't fit her in the chest anymore. She had a pair of cutoff jean shorts on over it that were too short and too tight because they were from last year and her mother only had money to buy her new clothes for school. On top she had a beat up old flannel on, which was hanging open. The way Daryl's dad was looking at her made her immediately self concious and River pulled her shirt closed and crossed her arms to keep it shut._

 _"I know ya," he said, "yer Cynthia Tramp's kid." River nodded, hoping that was the end of this discussion and he would move out of her way so she could leave. But instead the man lounged against the doorframe. "Yer looking awful grown up." River shifted her weight from one foot to the other nervously. She wasn't really sure what to say to that last comment, so she nodded her head._

 _"Goin' to be in high school next year, j-j-just like Daryl," she said._

 _J-j-j," the man said, imitating her. He laughed again. "Cat got yer tounge sugar?"_

 _The man stepped inside the room, shutting the door behind him. Something about being shut inside the trailer with this strange drunk man made River want to panic. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly feeling like it was full of sand._

 _"I think I betta go home now, my mom's expectin' me," River lied, taking a tentative step to the side and trying to skirt around the large man and get closer to the door. Her mom was at work. Working a double. No one was going to notice she was gone until sixteen hours from now. Her hand hit the doorknob and she twisted it to the right. The door pulled open about two inches revealing a little sliver of light. Then it was quickly snapped shut._

 _"Got us a little score to settle first," the man said. He was close enough now that River could smell his breath. And it reeked of alcohol. The smell of it was almost enough to make her dizzy. "Ya know trespassin' is illegal."_

 _"I'm r-r-real sorry," River said, "I was jus' lookin' fer Daryl, we was 'upposta go fishin' together today."_

 _"Fishin' huh?," Mr. Dixon said. His mouth was smiling but his eyes were cold. "Tell ya what sugar. You stay an have a beer with me and we'll ferget the whole thang."_

 _A beer? River wasn't sure if she heard right. This guy was a grown up. He had to know she was way too young to drink._

 _"I'm not allowed," River told him. That made him laugh again._

 _"Hows about a little kiss then," he said. He grabbed River and tried to press his mouth to hers. She twisted away and he got her cheek instead. River had enough. She didn't like being accused of things she wasn't doing. She didn't like the way this man was looking at her. And she really didn't like him putting his hands on her._

 _"Let go," she yelped. River shoved at his chest. When she was unable to move his much larger frame away from her she pulled her foot back and kicked him in the leg. Since she was almost barefoot all she suceeded in doing was jamming her toe against the hard bone of his shin._

 _"Little bitch," he swore. River didn't even see it coming, he hauled his arm back so fast. Using the back of his hand he hit her so hard it knocked her to the ground. River had her little butt paddled a few times by her mother when she was much much younger. And she had gotten into it a few times with other girls from school when they decided she was an easy target because her last name was Tramp. But she had never really been hit before._

 _Her mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood and the side of her face felt like it was going to explode. She hit the floor on her knees. Before she could recover from the first blow, the man was on top of her. He was a huge bear of a man, and that was without the large potbelly he was carrying in front. He pinned her wrists above her head and started roaming her body with his other hand. Pushing the white triangles of her bikini top out of the way and pinching at her nipples._

 _River started to cry. She tried asking him to stop but that only made him laugh again. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head to the side. There was a crumpled beer can on the floor under her and it was digging painfully into her lower back. The man was so heavy on top of her that she could barely breathe._

 _There was a loud noise in the room. The door being kicked in and slamming hard against the wall behind it. Then a hard packing thump sound. And then River could breathe again. The man was not on top of her anymore. She was being hauled to her feet. River opened her eyes, expecting to see Daryl standing there. Come to save her. But instead she was face to face with the older of the two Dixon siblings. Merle. He was dressed in a military uniform and River plucked from somewhere in the back of her mind that he must be home because he finished basic training._

 _"Run River!," he screamed into her face. Merle shoved her towards the open door. She took a few stumble steps and then ran out onto the porch. Merle was behind her. And then he wasn't. She hit the tall grass of the front yard. One of her shoes was gone. Merle's shiny motorcycle was parked in the road._

 _River felt the urge to run. Run home and lock the door. But instead she turned around in time to see Merle's dad dragging him back inside the door with one hand as he punched him in the back of the head with the other. Then the man tossed him on the ground. He landed on the old mostly empty box of pizza like he weighed no more than a rag doll. His dad got on top of him and started punching him hard in the face. It looked like he meant to kill him. She had never been so scared in all her life. River's feet were moving before she made up her mind what she was going to do. She grabbed her tackle box up from the front porch. It was actually an old tool box she got at goodwill. A heavy metal one._

 _She darted back inside the trailer, the box held high over her head. Her breasts were still exposed and there was blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. She brought the box down hard on top of the man's head. Because of the awkward angle, it didn't knock him out completely. But it must have hurt like a sumbitch, because he rolled off Merle and flopped on the floor moaning and holding the back of his head._

 _"Fuck you!," River screamed. Merle scrambled to his feet. He grabbed River by the hand and ran out the front door, dragging her down the steps behind him. He ran for his bike and swung his leg over._

 _"GET ON!" River had never ridden on a motor cycle before. She was pretty sure she was not allowed to either. Especially with Daryl's brother. Her mom told her that boy was nothing but trouble. He was going to end up behind bars someday. Stay away from him._

 _River swung her leg over, resting her feet on the little bars that were there for that purpose. Merle kicked one leg down and the bike roared to life between her legs. She wrapped her arms around his middle, realizing as her chest touched against the rough fabric of his uniform that her bathing suit top was still pushed to the side and her breasts were out. He hit the throttle and then they were gone. Trailers flying past them. River could hear Merle's dad screaming at them from the front porch over the hum of the engine. Some of the most awful swears she had ever heard strung together. Hopefully someone would call the cops on him._

 _She thought Merle would drive her home. But instead he headed out of the trailer park. She thought they were going fast back there, but once they were out on the open country road, she had to tuck her head against his back and close her eyes to keep from being sick from how fast things were whipping past them. Her ponytail was streaming out behind her and she was pressing her cheek so hard against Merle's back that she could hear his heart pounding in his chest._

 _The bike slowed to a crawl before it stopped. River opened her eyes. They were at the little minimart near the edge of town. The one that sold milk and bait out of the same cooler. Merle swung his leg off the bike and stood up._

 _"Fix yer shirt," he told her. River looked down. Her face turned about 18 differerent shades of red as she adjusted her top so she was decent again. Then just for good measure she buttoned up her flannel shirt as well. Merle caught her by the chin and looked down at her like he was studying her face. Then he turned on his heel and walked into the store._

 _River wasn't sure what to do, so she swung off the bike and hobble stepped over to the faded wooden bench in front of the store where old men liked to sit and smoke. Thankfully it was unoccupied at the moment. The little bell on the top of the door to go inside jingled again and Merle came walking back out. He had a can of orange crush in his hand and a stryofoam cup and a handful of napkins in the other. He sat down next to River and handed her the napkins first._

 _"Clean up yer mouth," he said, "there's blood." River did as she was told._

 _An old woman got out of her car and walked slowly past them, giving her and Merle a suspicious glance. River held her middle finger up at the woman to hurry her along. Nosy bitch. Hopefully that bitch didn't know her mom or she was going to be hearing about that later. Merle laughed._

 _He stood up and pulled a ziplock bag out of his pocket. There were two small pills left inside. River wondered what they were. If it was asprin she wanted one. But she had a feeling the pills were not asprin. Merle tucked them back into his pocket and poured the ice from the cup into the empty baggie. Then he sat back down and held it to the side of River's mouth._

 _"What's the soda for?," she asked. Her words come out sounding funny with the bag of ice pressed to her mouth. Like she was imitating a retarded person or something._

 _"For me to drink ya dummy," he informed her. Really he had bought it so taking a large cup of ice would not arouse the clerk's suspicions. Merle leaned against the back of the bench and scrubbed his face with his hands. So far his homecoming was not going as well as he had hoped._

 _"What in the hell were you doin' in my house when my dad was there?," he finally asked the girl. He also took a good look at River while she sat there nursing her split lip. The last time he had seen her, she was all knobby knees and pimples. Like a gawky little baby deer. Guess the zits went when her tits came in. She even had a little bit of makeup on. Some black around the edges of her eyes that was smudged now from her tears. She looked at least five years older than the last time he saw her. And ten times prettier._

 _"I was lookin' fer Daryl," she said with a touch of indignation to her voice. "We were supposta go fishing together. To celebrate him passing 8th grade." That made Merle smile._

 _"He told me ya been tutorin' him," he told her._

 _"Really?," she asked. It made her feel good that Daryl felt she was important enough to talk to his brother about her._

 _The way Merle was looking at her made her feel some kind of way too. She wasn't sure which way. She had never been alone with him before. And never really been this close to him before either. His eyes were so blue. And he looked good in his fatigues. Like a young man instead of a punk teenager. She felt a little blush start to rise up in her cheeks and she looked down, pulling at a loose string that was hanging from her shorts._

 _"Really." Merle paused a moment. Then he spoke up again. "So is Darylina yer boyfriend now, or what?" If Daryl had half a brain in his head, be would lock this down and tap that ass. Before River figured out she was pretty enough with nice enough titties to get a boyfriend with a car and money to take her out._

 _"He says that, but..." River said. She stopped and pressed the ice against her lip again._

 _"But what?," Merle asked her._

 _"He says that, but I don't really think we are," River said, still fascinated with unravelling the string on her shorts, "cause we never even kissed or nothing."_

 _"That so," Merle asked. River nodded and looked up at him again. His eyes were the same color as the sky behind his head. And the way he was looking at her made her feel like a big bat was flapping around in her stomach. His hand came up first. Slowly, giving her time to back away if she wanted to. He put it over her wrist, pushing the hand that was holding the bag of ice down into her lap. It was cold against the bare skin of her thigh._

 _Then his hand moved back up, one finger catching her under the chin. He leaned in, getting closer and closer until his lips were pressed to hers. He kissed her on the split side of her lip first. Then full on the mouth, parting her lips to slip just the tip of his tounge between them. When he pulled back, River was still leaning towards him with her eyes shut, like she was waiting for something else to happen. Something magical. Merle laughed, snorting a little air out through his nose._

 _"Come on River, I betta take you home now."_

River moved the tip of her finger down from the bridge of her nose and ran it over her bottom lip, smiling a little at the memory. That was her first kiss. Merle had been on a two week leave from the army. By the end of the first week, she was sneaking out her bedroom window every night to be with him. River never made it to high school. She got pregnant with Harley instead.

"Mom," Harley hissed, "what are we going to do?" River looked at her older daughter. Then she looked back at the high fences that surrounded the prison. She squared up her shoulder, trying to feel determined about her decision.

"We're going in."


	3. Chapter 3

Red River Blue

Chapter 3

He clicked the gate shut behind the car Andrea was driving back to Woodbury in. More than anything Merle wanted to be in that car, driving both himself and his little brother far away from this place. Setting up a meeting with Phillip Blake was a mistake. More than a mistake really, it was a foolish and stupid waste of time. That man didn't want to negotiate. He wanted blood.

They went back inside and that little blonde girl started singing. Her name escaped Merle at the moment. She had a pretty enough voice, but the song she was singing was sad. The girl was young and pretty. Maybe close to that his older daughter would be if she was still alive. But as the girl sang, the expression on her face made her look as old as time itself. As Merle quietly observed her, the old farmer's words from earlier in the day came drifting back to him.

 _And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body be cast into hell._

He knew what the old man meant. That he should stop being angry and spiteful over his hand. Instead he should be thankful just to be alive. Grateful to god that he found his brother.

Merle walked outside, away from the girl and her soft sad little song. He leaned against the building and lit up his last remaining cigarette. The korean kid's girlfriend was outside, taking watch. She threw him a dirty look, but that was all. Merle could deal with dirty looks, he had been getting them all his life.

Taking a deep drag from the cigarette he had pinched between his fingers, Merle closed his eyes. He tried not to think about them. About her. But in the quiet of the night, her ghost always came. Invading his mind, clouding his thoughts with her invisible presence. Like the water she was named for, memories of her flowed over him like a river. He thought about the last time he saw her.

He had gotten straight again. Not all the way sober, but he was off the real hard stuff. He knew the little piece of paper he got from the court said he was not supposed to bother River at work. In fact he was supposed to stay a certain distance away from this place altogether. Daryl told him not to come here. But if he showed up at the house, that little brat Harley would be calling 5-0 on his ass before he could even get from his bike to the door.

He stood across the street. Leaning against the building and smoking, just like he was doing now. The whole front of the place was a big picture window. He watched the people that were walking into the place and leaving with food in pink paper bags with little white handles. It was a beautiful day outside. So there were also people sitting at the little metal tables outside, drinking coffee, eating sweets and talking or staring at their phones. A mom and two little kids. A man in a suit that was poking at buttons on his phone while he stared at his laptop. A couple of college aged girls laughing and gossiping together.

Merle smoked and he waited. He just wanted to get a look at her. Just a look. Make sure she was alright. That's what he told himself on the way here. He knew she was there, he already checked to make sure her car was parked out back. That ugly banged up station wagon with one door the wrong color and the side view mirror held on with duct tape. She drove it so Harley could drive herself to school in the nicer car they had. So the other kids wouldn't laugh at her. The wagon was parked out behind the bakery, the edge of one back wheel sticking cockeyed out of the parking space.

It felt like he had been waiting forever. But finally she came out the door, pushing it open with the side of her hip because her hands were full. Her hair was tied back in a sloppy bun, a few loose strands hanging down around her face. The color was different. Darker than the last time he had seen her. She was wearing a pink tank top with the bakery logo on the front. The same as all the girls wore when they were working. She had pink converse sneakers on, and her long tan legs curved up into cutoff denim shorts that were covered up in front with the little white half apron she had on.

As soon as she came out the door, Merle felt his heart catch. He always forgot how god damn beautiful she was. More than just hot. She was pretty too. River stopped at the business man's table first, setting down another cup of coffee for him. _Hi Tom, you looked like you could use another cup. How was your danish?_ Of course the man smiled up at her, telling her that the food was amazing as always. When River walked past him to the next table, he shifted in his chair to get a look at her ass. Merle clenched his fist, then forced himself to relax. The man hadn't really even done anything. And if he walked over there and punched that man, he would go back to jail for sure. And for a lot longer than 90 days this time.

River stopped at the table with the mom and the two little girls next. She treats in her hand for them. Balls of cake on sticks that were covered in pink frosting or maybe melted chocolate and dipped in rainbow sprinkles. _I saw you girls finished your sandwiches, so I thought you might be able to help me out. If it's alright with your mom... I made a new flavor of cake today and I really need someone to try it out for me and tell me if it's any good._ The mother of the little girls laughed as the kids reached up eagerly for the treats. _White chocolate raspberry._ Of course the little girls were more than happy to annouce how good the little treats were, talking with their mouths full while River and their mother laughed at them.

Once River went back inside the shop, the little girls started begging their mother for more. The woman packed up her purse and took them inside, leaving a few minutes later with a large pink paper bag full of sweets. Sweets that she probably would not have purchased if River had not come out and given her daughters the two little free treats. Merle smiled and snorted a silent laugh through his nose. Then he took one last drag on his smoke before he tossed it down and ground it out with the tip of his boot.

It was almost 2:30. That meant River was going to leave soon to go pick up Wren from school. She would keep the girl at the bakery with her until Harley got out of school to come collect her younger sister. Sometimes the girls would stay and help out a little around the place, sometimes they would leave and go home or go do whatever it was they did these days. Merle didn't really know what they were into anymore. He had lost visitation rights a long time ago.

River came walking out the back door of the bakery. She had taken her apron off, and her purse was hanging over her shoulder, key jingling in her hand. When she saw him, she stopped. Merle was leaning against the driver's side door of her station wagon. He watched the expressions flit across her face. First she looked shocked, and maybe a little scared. She jingled her keys around in her hand, getting ahold of the little spray can of pepper spray she kept on her keychain specifically for him.

He knew first hand that getting hosed down with pepper spray was not really so great, to put it mildly. So he held his hands up, hoping to show her that he had not come to start trouble. River narrowed her eyes at him. He knew what she was doing. Observing him and trying to figure out if he was high or not. She must have decided he wasn't because she let the little spray can jingle down loose from her keychain again.

"You know yer not allowed to come here," River reminded him, taking a few tentative steps in his direction. Or at least in the direction of her car. He nodded. She stopped before she got within arms reach of him, crossing her arms under her breasts.

"What do you want?," she asked him. Merle reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded wad of cash. She could tell it was all twenties. Probably two or three thousand dollars by the look of it. She made no move to take the money. Instead she repeated her question. "What do you want Merle?"

"Just take it," he said, "buy the girls somethin' nice. Ya don't have to tell them it came from me..."

River looked at the money, thinking about how Harley needed new field hockey equiptment and Wren needed new soccer cleats. But she also thought about how taking the money meant letting Merle back into her life again. He would take it as an invitation to start texting and calling her again. Showing up here and waiting around outside for her. She shook her head.

"Jus' move so I can get into my car please," she said. When he didn't move right away, she added, "Wren gets scared if I'm late to pick her up."

Merle moved to the side a few steps so River had room to open the door of her car. But not so far that she wouldn't have to get close to him in order to get into the car. He caught her by the arm once she had the door open and tried pushing the money at her again. She was so close to him, he could smell the aroma of vanilla and sugar that was always clinging to her hair from the bakery. Under that was the musky perfume that she dabbed on her neck and between her breasts in the morning when she got out of the shower. The stuff she wore because the smell of it reminded her of her mom.

"Take it," he told her, pressing the money into her hand. She gripped the wad of cash, then shoved it back against his chest. Hard.

"I don't need it. And I don't want it either," she told him. "You better leave before one of the girls inside the bakery sees you and calls the cops."

With that she turned and slid behind the wheel of her car. Merle brought his hand up to grab the money before it fell down and scattered all over the parking lot. He watched River back out of her parking space and drive away, her hand coming up to wipe at her eyes. He watched until she was out of sight. Then he left. He left and he went straight over to his dealer's shitty little apartment. He used that money to buy drugs.

Merle took one last drag on his cigarette and thought about offering to take watch for Maggie so she wouldn't have to stay up. That last thing he wanted to do was lay down in a dirty cell and be alone with his ghosts and regrets. He took a few steps towards the woman, opening his mouth to speak. But before the words came out, a loud sound from down by the outer fence caught his attention.

A high pitched whistle, followed by a loud popping. His first thought was that they were being shot at, and he assumed a defensive postition. But then he saw the lights. Someone had lit of a pile of fireworks down by the fence. All the walkers were heading in that direction, attracted by the sounds and the bright lights.

"There's someone coming up the drive," Maggie said, pointing down towards the outer gate that had been smashed in by the governor's walker bomb. Maggie held her gun up, training it on the small group of people that were walking up the path. It was dark, but the flashing lights from the fireworks cast a shadowy light on their faces and figures as they walked. Merle set his hand down gently on top of Maggie's gun, lowering it so that it pointed down at the ground.

"I know them," he said. His voice sounded strange to him. Like it belonged to someone else.

"They from Woodbury?," Maggie asked. He shook his head. Maggie turned and took off inside, probably running off to tattle on him to Officer Friendly and the rest of the morons inside. Merle stood rooted to the spot. He didn't move. Not even when Daryl ran out to throw open the gate and let River and the girls inside. His one good hand was gripping the metal fence as he stared at them. He felt like he was losing his damn mind.

The girls looked so big. Especially Harley. She was as tall as Daryl. And Wren. She looked like a little half woman. River looked thinner. She looked older and her hair was longer. Ghosts didn't age or change. Merle told himself they had to be real. But it didn't really hit him until Wren flung her thin arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest.

"Oh daddy," she cooed, "I'm so glad yer alive."


	4. Chapter 4

Red River Blue

Chapter 4

"We don't want to be any trouble," River said. She stuck close to Daryl's side and casted another nervous glance around at the odd assortment of people that had gathered in the small paved area outside the prison walls. As she tried to get a read on them, she could tell a lot of them were staring back, wondering if they could trust her. "The girls and I can sleep in the camper."

After some brief negotiations between Daryl and Rick, the man that seemed to be in charge of this place, River had been allowed to walk back down the long drive and drive her camper in through the gate. Rick insisted on looking around inside her camper when she got it parked. River didn't like it. She didn't know this man or trust him. But after a nod from Daryl she agreed to step out and let the man inside. It seemed like he was just checking to make sure no one was hiding inside, so River relaxed a little.

"Ya ain't sleepin' in a camper out here," Daryl insisted, "Y'all are comin' inside where it's safe." River's eyes darted around. Looking at the people that she was going to be rooming with. They didn't look particularly scary or dangerous, but they were still strangers to her. When they first came in, Wren had run over to hug her father. She stood with him inside the fence while Harley and River walked down to get the camper. But now she was crowded back in next to River's side, her arm around her mother's waist as she stared around with big wide eyes.

Wren had seen other people a few times since the otubreak, mostly from afar. But it had been a long time since she had spoken to anyone besides her mom and her sister. Maybe close to a year now. They stayed quiet and they stayed away from other people. That was how they stayed alive this long. Wren lifted her hand, her thumb sliding between her teeth where she bit down on the tip of it and chewed at the skin around her thumbnail. She wasn't really afraid. But she was feeling shy and nervous. Especially since there was a boy here about her age.

Wren watched as her father stepped forward, taking a step towards her older sister. His arms were slightly lifted, like he meant to hug her. Harley stepped back, mantaining the distance between them, her hand moving quickly to the gun on her hip. He backed off. Wren thought he looked sad. She was the only one that hugged or touched him. Even her mom kept her distance from him.

Daryl watched the awkward scene developing. He couldn't say he blamed Harley for how she was acting, but it wasn't going to help Merle out around here if everyone found out even his own daughter was afraid of him. Daryl didn't wait for River to decide if she was going to sleep inside the prison, he just tossed an arm around her shoulders and started herding her and the girls inside. They were like a flock of geese. River was the head goose and wherever he led her, the girls followed behind like little goslings.

"Wait," River said. She ducked out from under Daryl's arm and hurried back to her camper, giving Merle a wide berth. She climbed inside and popped back out a few seconds later with a large basket of peaches. She glanced around nervously again and then returned to Daryl's side.

"We got these this mornin'," she explained. "I uh... I thought y'all might like some." It came out sounding like a question. So Daryl reached in and plucked a peach from the basket, smelling it before he took a bite. "They're a lil' underripe still, but not too bad," she added, fiddling with the edge of the basket and shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

A older looking woman with short gray hair stepped forward. She had a baby in her arms, but she handed it off to a pretty young blonde girl that looked about Harley's age. Then she held her hands out for the basket of peaches. She gave River a smile, the first one she had gotten from anyone besides Daryl in this place. River handed her the basket.

"Thank you," the woman said. Seeing that Daryl was obviously not planning to introduce her, Carol figured she better just do it herself. Sometimes he really acted like he was born in a barn.

"I'm Carol." She nodded towards the girl that was holding the baby. "That's Beth and the little one is Judith."

"I'm River," River said, "this 'ere is my girls Wren and Harley." The older girl nodded, but the younger one just ducked in closer to her momma. Carol smiled at the girl, but seeing her brought back some painful memories. She was about the same age Sophia would have been if she was still alive.

The younger girl looked a lot like her mother. But the older one was on odd mix of Merle and River. She had wildly curly blonde hair and her mother's full lips. But she had Merle's eyes. And from the looks of her, it seemed she had his angry disposition as well. Carol tried not to be too obvious about it, but as she glanced back and forth between them, the identical scowls on their faces made her want to laugh. There was no denying who's child that was.

"Come'on," Daryl said. He didn't put his arm around River again, but he pulled at her shirtsleeve, leading her along behind him like she was on a leash. When they walked inside, River took a good look around. The place was not exactly the Red Roof Inn, but it did look secure. The walls were thick and the doors locked. It was pretty dirty inside, but nothing that a little soap and water wouldn't fix. She knew Daryl was watching her to gauge her reaction to the place so she gave him a shrug and a smile. This place had potential. But she would wait a while and get to know the people a little better before she made her final judgement. Daryl led her through the first area, which was mostly open and scattered with a few tables and chairs and some wooden pallets. Then they turned a corner and headed into what looked like an actual cell block.

"This'un here is mine," Daryl informed them, pointing to a cell.

"Can we have the room next to yours?," Wren asked, finally piping up in her sweet little chirpy bird voice. River leaned, looking into the cell in question. It looked unoccupied, so she nodded at her daughter. Wren ran inside and started jumping and climbing all over one of the metal bunk beds. "Can I have the top bunk?"

"No dumbass," her sister told her, "Yer gonna have ta sleep outside with the dead." River turned, trying to hide her smile.

"Harley. Language. And please don't tease your sister." Harley rolled her eyes.

"Fine," Harley said, "but yer still sleepin' on the bottom bunk." Just to get her point across she gave the younger girl a quick rabbit punch to the arm. Harley barely even touched her, but of course Wren squealed like it was the end of her life and went running for mom. River closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Did the girls have to start kicking off now? In front of all these people they didn't even know and that probably already had their opinions of her mothering skills because she was affiliated with Merle. This had nothing to do with a stupid bunk bed anyway. Harley was mad at Wren for acting like what she considered to be a little traitor and hugging Merle.

Daryl leaned down and whispered to the girl. "Bottom bunk is more comfortable." He patted Wren on her head, thinking about how much taller she was than the last time he saw her. Wren let go of her mother and hugged him around the waist. Then she ran back into the room and plopped down on the bottom bunk mattress, a cloud of dust rising up around her and making both girls cough.

"Maybe I better get our sleepin' bags out of the camper," River said. And an allergy pill for each of the girls before they sneezed themselves to death. She took a step in the direction that would lead her back outside and then glanced back towards the girls. They had not been alone around people she didn't know since before the outbreak. She knew she was just walking outside, but it still terrified her. There were other men here besides Daryl and Merle. Men she didn't know or trust.

"I got 'em," Daryl told her quietly. She nodded, feeling more grateful to him than she thought the situation actually warranted. It was hard to explain, but she had been so afraid to even walk off a few feet away from the girls to pee for so long now. To have someone she trusted to share the responsibility with felt like the weight of a thousand giant elephants being lifted off her back. She told the girls she would be right back and headed for the camper. Daryl watched his brother to see what he was going to do. The man hesistated a moment, then went walking out after River like someone lit a fire under his ass. Daryl watched him go, letting out an inaudible sigh.

River pulled herself up into the camper. The sleeping bags were in a rumpled heap on the bed. She thought about rolling them up, but instead she folded them up into a big wad and gathered them up into her arms. The camper rocked a little to her left, which meant someone big had put their weight on the steps to get in. River dropped the bags, her hand going to the knife on her belt. Her rifle was already inside, leaning against the metal bars of Daryl's cell.

"What?," she asked, her hand coming away from her knife once she saw Merle standing inside the doorway of her camper. The camper wasn't exactly large. But it wasn't tiny either. It was somewhere between a full size RV and a pop up. She had taken it from a lot near her apartment after it became clear that no one was going to get in trouble anymore for stealing things. But Merle looked huge standing in her small space, like Gulliver when he went to the land of the little people.

He stared at her a moment before he answered, so she leaned down and started gathering the sleeping bags back up into her arms. She rolled them into a bundle and set them on the table. Then she took a good look at the father of her children.

He looked thin. And old. Years of hard drug use and harder living had not been kind to him. If she didn't know him, she would have never guessed that he was only about six years older than her. He looked closer to fifty than forty. Even his hair was starting to go gray. Her eyes moved down from his face. His body was still hard and solid looking. That had not changed.

"What's that thing on your arm?," she asked. It was obviously used for killing the dead, but she couldn't figure out why it was covering his whole hand. That didn't seem very practical. Merle still didn't speak to her. Instead he loosened up the straps on the strange metal contraption and slid it off his arm to reveal a disgusting looking badly healed stump where his right hand used to be. River's blue eyes got wide, but she didn't look away. It was obvious to her now that he had been through something traumatic. Not just because of the stump where his hand used to be, there was something there in his eyes. A look she didn't recognize.

She felt the urge to cross the slight distance between them and take him into her arms. To offer him the comfort of her body. Give him the only kind of love that men like Merle understood. But instead her hand came up, the tip of one finger rubbing over the crooked bump in the bridge of her nose. She had believed for years that if she only loved her husband hard enough, it would make him better. Cure him. But she had learned the hard way that love wasn't always enough. River squared her shouders up and chewed at her bottom lip before she spoke.

"Just 'cause ya lost yer hand don't mean I'm getting back together with ya," she informed him. That made him smile. Not the scary I am about to kill you smile that he usually offered up to people. A real smile. It was soft and sad and it made River feel the endless hole in her chest that she liked to pretend wasn't there.

"Ya could at least say hello to me," he said. River's words were more telling than she knew. She never announced that she wasn't getting back with him unless she was thinking about taking him back. If she really wanted to get rid of him, she would swear and throw things.

"Hello Merle," she said, swallowing hard since her mouth felt like it was filling up with spit for some stupid reason. Her palms were sweaty and she wiped them against the thighs of her jeans. Merle moved towards her, discarding the metal contraption he had pulled off his arm on the table next to the jumbled pile of sleeping bags. He moved slowly, well aware that if he spooked River he was likely to recieve a hard knee to the junk or maybe even worse for his troubles.

He brought his hand up, the tip of his finger running over the bump in her nose. Touching it just like he had seen her doing a few moments before.

"Told you a long time ago I would pay to get that fixed," he reminded her.

"And I told you a long time ago I like it better this way," River said. It was not the first time she told him that. He knew her well enough to read between the lines. Better this way did not mean her nose. It meant her life. She liked it better without him in it.

Merle was good at keeping his emotions hidden. But she saw the subtle twitch in his jaw. Whether it was from anger or regret or a mixture of both she couldn't say.

"Does give yer face some character," he teased.

The joke was so far past inappropriate, River felt the giggle bubbling up out of her before she could stop herself. She choked off her laughter and tried to look angrier than she felt. Merle shifted his hand, rubbing his thumb over the bridge of her nose instead of his finger so he could cup her face with the rest of his hand. His thumb felt rough in contrast to the gentle way he was touching her. He was close enough to her that she could smell him. Tobacco and sweat mixed in with the woodsy almost grassy smell that was distinctly Merle. Like dew on the grass after the rain. The smell of the trees and the leaves just clung to him.

River had not kicked his balls up his ass or stuck a gun in his face yet, so Merle ran the ball of his thumb down over the tip of her nose. The edge of his thumb dipped into the little vertical cleft above her lips and then down just slightly further to trace the outline of her lips themselves. She always did have a good mouth for kissing. Pouty and soft with a bottom lip that was fuller than the top one. She closed her eyes, her hands clenching and unclenching into fists at her sides as a violent shudder rippled up her spine.

She felt his breath before his lips, ghosting over her. The tip of his nose touched hers and she felt the slight movement of his head shifting as he rubbed his nose against hers. He hadn't done that to her in years. Not since Harley was just a little toe head squirt and liked to called it eskimo kissing. _Eski-MO kiss me daddy! Now do it to Mommy._ Instead of shoving him away and smacking him off like she knew she should do, River found herself leaning in closer. Her hands found his chest and fisted into his shirt as his lips found hers.

"MOM!"

The loud squak came from outside the camper and for once River was grateful that her younger daughter could never remember to keep her loud mouth shut. She suddenly realized what the hell she was doing and how crazy stupid it was. Crazy stupid and dangerous. She shoved Merle back and away from her, turning around quickly to scrub at her face with her hands before she answered her daughter's calls. The girl was pulling herself up inside the camper by now and River could see that Carol, the gray haired woman that had taken the peaches from her a short while before was with the girl. She had some under the excuse of walking Wren out to the camper, but River had a feeling the woman was really coming to check on her. Because she saw Merle follow her outside.

"MOM! I want my comic books from outta the camper!," the girl hollered.

"Samantha Wren!," River scolded the girl, "how many times have I told you to keep your voice down." The girl glanced at her father and then turned about fifteen different shades of red.

"Sorry mom," the girl mumbled. "Can I take my comics inside?," she asked in a more reasonable tone of voice.

"Haven't you read them all?," River asked. She had been thinking about tossing the whole pile. The girls hadn't touched them in months. Wren took that as permission to go digging for the books. This involved flipping up the seat of the table bench and making a horrible mess all over the inside of the small camper.

"Yer going to be cleanin' that all up tomorrow," River told the girl, as she grabbed the pile of sleeping bags and stepped back, trying to stay out of the line of rapid fire books, junk and magazines that were being tossed willy nilly onto the floor and table. Merle had grabbed his arm piece back and was shoving his hand back into it like he had been caught with his pants down.

"What do you want the comics for anyway?," River asked the girl. She bent down to retrive one of her own books. A trashy romance novel she had read about a hundred times already. She was thinking it might come in handy later.

"Carl has some and he said he would trade me," Wren announced. She must have found the books she was looking for since her head finally popped up.

"Who's Carl?," River asked. She had seen a lot of people sort of standing and milling around, but she had not really been introduced to most of them yet.

"Rick's kid," Merle told her, "the one in the hat." River nodded. She had seen a boy about Wren's age in a sheriff hat. That must be the kid her daughter was talking about.

Wren dragged herself to her feet, her thin arms loaded to the brim with a sliding pile of comic books. Merle reached over to catch half the stack before they flopped on the ground. He tucked them against his chest. Wren looked up at him like he had saved her from a heard of dead instead of offering to carry a lightweight stack of books for her.

"Thanks Daddy," she said, her smile beaming from ear to ear. Wren flounced down out of the camper, paying no regard to the wild tornado mess she left behind her. River just shook her head and watched Merle climb down after the girl. She stepped down and stood next to the camper with Carol, watching the two of them head into the building. Wren was bouncing along, chittering at him. And to his credit, Merle was at least pretending to be interested in whatever she was telling him. River only heard the last part of it.

"I'm so glad we are going to be livin' in the same place as you daddy. Now we can finally be a real family."

River didn't say anything, but her emotions must have been showing plainly on her face. Because she felt Carol's arm go around her shoulders, offering her silent support. River swallowed the lump in her throat and hugged the other woman back as best she could with an armload of sleeping bags. It was a new experience for River. Feeling understood by someone she just met. But there was something there in Carol's eyes. Not judgement or pity. Just a silent offer of support and understanding. River had a feeling they had more in common than she would have guessed.

"Here," Carol offered, grabbing one of the bags that was ready to slip from River's grasp and fall down on the dirty cement, "you don't have to carry it all by yourself. Not anymore."


	5. Chapter 5

Red River Blue

Chapter 5

They sat around a table, eating the peaches that River and her girls had picked earlier that day. Wren was down in the cellblock reading comics with Rick's son. River and her older daughter listened quietly as Rick and Daryl explained the sitation with the governor to them. Her daughter's hand slid over, closing around hers as the men talked. The more she heard, the more worried and afraid River got. When she came here, she hadn't realized that she was walking her girls into the middle of a war between two groups. River had felt hopeful about this place at first. But now she was thinking about leaving. She could hear the low voices intermingled with laughter coming from the cell where Wren and her new best friend were reading comics together. If they left in the morning, she knew her younger daughter was going to be devastated.

The more Rick watched this new woman and her subtle interactions with both Daryl and his brother, the more nervous he got. When she got here, he had been hesitant to let her in. Now he was afraid of what was going to happen if she didn't stay. If River took her girls and left, the Dixons were going to go with her. Both of them. Which would pretty much blow any chance Rick had of standing a chance against the governor. Look what happened already and Daryl had only been gone for the day. If he and Merle had not shown back up, Rick and everyone else here would probably all be dead right now.

River exchanged looks with Harley and squeezed the girl's hand. They would wait until they went back to their cell to talk about what they wanted to do. But River knew her daughter well. She could already tell by the look on the girl's face, Harley was not impressed with everything they had just been told. She was going to want to go back out on the road.

"This place is worth fighting for," Rick said. Everyone already knew it, but he thought it beared repeating. River looked around the prison. She felt safe behind these thick walls, that much was true. At least from the dead. But she wasn't sure if she was willing to risk her life or the lives of her daughters for this place.

"It's not our fight," Harley said, finally speaking up since her mother wasn't.

"Yer right." The agreement came from the last place Harley expected. From her father. "Ain't yer fight. We should leave." Harley wrinkled up her nose at him. Then she yanked herself up to her feet, knocking her chair down behind her. It clattered to the floor and woke the baby in Carol's arms, causing the small child to cry. Harley paid the baby no mind. She pointed her finger at Merle.

"There is no _we_ you asshole," she informed him. "I'm not going anywhere with you and neither is Mom." With those words the girl stormed off to the cell she was sharing with her mother and sister. River buried her head in her hands, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her.

"I'm sorry," she said. The comment was not really directed towards Merle, but more like everyone else in the room. She was embarassed for them to witness her family drama. "She's just angry." River had tried taking Harley to a counselor before the turn. But that only seemed to make the girl angrier. Field hockey had helped her more. At least there she had a healthy place to get some of her aggression out.

"Excuse me," River said. She got to her feet and picked up the chair that her daughter had knocked to the ground. Then she hurried away from the curious looks and judgemental glances from all the people at the table. Carol watched her go as she bounced Judith in her arms to quiet the girl. A few seconds later Merle stormed off in the other direction, heading outside. He didn't bother to excuse himself. Daryl watched them both walk away but made no move to follow either one.

"Do you think you ought to check on her?," Carol asked, nudging him gently with her elbow. He could see she was worried about River and maybe Harley too after her little outburst. Daryl snorted. If she thought that was bad, wait until she saw a real fight between the three of them. River was coming off quiet and passive right now, but she often gave as good as she got.

Before Daryl could answer, River came back. She sat back down in her chair, tucking the little wisps of hair behind her ears that had escaped from her braided ponytail. Smoothing her clothes out. Her eyes stayed fixed on the table top. She didn't look up until Judith let out a high pitched wail. Carol mumbled something about a bottle and handed the little girl off to Daryl. That surprised River a little. Daryl wasn't really a baby person. He had been scared to death of her girls until they could hold their own heads up.

"What?," he asked. He could see River smirking at him. Watching him hold little asskicker. She shook her head.

"Nothin'. I thought you swore off babies forever after what Harley did to ya," she said, the corners of her mouth turning up a little further. Bordering on a real smile. The memory caught Daryl off guard. He had not thought about that in years and it made him choke a little on his laughter.

"What happened?," Glenn asked. The way the two of them were smiling, he had a feeling there was a funny story there. And it had been a long time since he heard anything funny. Plus he had to admit he was curious about River. What sort of woman would marry Merle and have two babies with him? This was not what he would have pictured in his mind if someone told him Merle had a wife. First of all, she was quiet and polite. At least so far. Her face was pretty besides the weird crook in her nose. She did look a little young to have two teenage daughters. Which made Glenn even more curious to hear her story.

"I said I would babysit Harley so they could go out," Daryl said.

"She was 'bout two at the time," River added, "that was right after we got back from Germany." Merle had been stationed there for a while. After his first tour in Iraq. River was afraid to live in a foriegn country, but she ended up loving it there. The people were funny and the food even better. Plus there was no drinking age and no one stared at her funny if she nursed her daughter in front of them. She had been sad to come back home to Georgia. Especially since she was going to have to stay and live with her mother again while her husband, who she had still been desperately in love with at that time, went back for another tour overseas.

"Yeah," Daryl said, "so me and Harley are lyin' on the couch, watching the singin' pony show. I swear I only closed my eyes for a minute." River's smile was getting bigger as he spoke. "When I woke up that freaking kid was butt ass naked, standing on top of me, pissin' in my face. She chewed up a whole pack of pink bubble gum and wadded that shit into my hair."

Now several people were laughing at the story. Glenn even had to wipe at his eyes. It occured to him that he had never heard Daryl talk to much in one stretch.

"Wasn't funny," Daryl told River, who was now shaking with silent laughter and wiping at her eyes, "I had ta shave my damn head!"

"She took... she got into the fridge too remember?," River asked as she tried to get control of her laughter so she could talk. "She took every condiment in the fridge and dumped 'em on the kitchen floor, then threw the eggs at the wall." When she and Merle got home from dinner, the house looked like a bomb had gone off inside of it. River had to rent a steam cleaner to get the mustard out of her mother's carpet.

"That's fuckin' right, she did," Daryl said like he was just now remembering what happened, "she dumped a whole bottle of ketchup inside my damn work boots too."

Carol walked back over and offered to take Judith back. She noticed for the first time since they got to this place, everyone was smiling. Including her.

Rick picked up where Daryl left off and told a funny story about how Lori lost Carl in a department store downtown once. She had Rick and every other cop in town out looking for the boy. Convinced the boy had been kidnapped and they would never see him again. Shane was the one that found him. Carl was located in the middle of the mall, riding the escalator up and down to his heart's content. Having the time of his life.

It was getting late and after laughing about Rick's story, people started getting up and heading for their beds. River was tired, but her head was pounding. The day had been long and stressful and she felt like she had crammed too much information into her brain at once. She walked out to her camper and grabbed a bottle of asprin, twisting the cap off and shaking a few pills out into her hand. There was half a bottle of water in the cup holder, so she twisted the cap off and used it to swallow the pills down.

River leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes, enjoying a few moments of silence before she headed back inside. She had no idea what she was going to do and she felt like she was being pulled in ten different directions at once. The swirl of emotions was normal for her. But it had been a while since she had to deal with it. She and the girls had been living day to day, the only worries had been food, water and shelter. Now she felt like she had a lot more than that to consider. She sighed and forced herself up and out of the passenger seat.

She brought the last little sip of water in the bottle along with her, tilting it back and wishing there was more of it and it was a beer. Passing by the cells, she glanced at the people inside. But she stopped short when she noticed a hulking frame inside her own cell. It was dark inside the prison, and all she could see was the silhouette of a man reaching over her daughter's sleeping form. River's hand instinctively went for the knife at her waist, stepping closer.

Her hand came down and she scrubbed at her face. It was only Merle. And all he was doing was pulling on Harley's sleeping bag to cover her up. He must have heard River's soft tread in the doorway, because he turned and spoke quietly to her.

"The only time I kin even get near her is when she's asleep." He pulled the bag up a little higher and stroked Harley's hair back away from her face. He sounded so sad. Sad and tired and beat down. River felt the same urge she had in the camper earlier. The urge to comfort him. It made her chest hurt, that was how badly she wanted to wrap her arms around him. She still cared for Merle and it made her angry at herself. It was a strange and unsettling feeling, loving someone that she hated so much. The time that passed had not made it any easier.

"Give her some time," River said, "she'll come around." She knew that was a lie. Harley was as stubborn as a mule and just as mean as Merle. She was never going to forgive him. But River felt like it was the right thing to say anyway.

"She hates me," he said. He had seen it in her eyes. That same pent up anger he had felt for his father all those years ago. When he married River, he had made a promise to himself that he would never become his father. And he tried. But somewhere along the line things had gone wrong. Terribly wrong. When River and his girls showed up at the prison today, he thought god was giving him a second chance to make things right. But he now he wasn't so sure. This felt more like punishment for all the things he did wrong in his life. To have his family so close and not even be able to hold them was almost worse than not having them at all.

Merle rested his arm against the edge of the top bunk and leaned his forehead against it. There was a soft shuffle noise next to him and then he felt River's arms wrap around his waist. She hugged him and rested her head between his shoulder blades. Maybe not offering him her love, not yet. But offering him comfort and empathy. He knew it was more than he deserved. But he was still going to take it.


	6. Chapter 6

Red River Blue

Chapter 6

Her body moved across the small space like it had a will of it's own. Not slowly or stopping until she had her arms around Merle's waist and her head resting against the center of his back. It felt so good to hold him. Like having a cold drink after working hard out in the hot sun all day. She could hear the strong steady thrum of his heart. His body felt so solid. Finally something real to hold onto in the constant swirling chaos of this new world.

She had been so strong for so long. Putting on a brave face for her girls when she really didn't have a single drop of hope left in her. River could feel it washing over her. Everything she had been holding inside her since she watched the first dead person rise up and attack that paramedic on tv. Her breathing started coming and going in short sporadic wheezing gasps. It was dark inside the prison, but suddenly she could see little white spots dancing in front of her eyes.

"Breathe, River. Yer havin' a panic attack honey. Just breathe."

River sucked in a long ragged breath, feeling the burn in her chest. Her sleeping bag was under her and she was lying on the bunk across from her girls with no idea how she got there. Merle's hand was on her wrist, two fingers pressing against the pulse point.

"That's it, slow it down. Just breathe," he told her. She closed her eyes. In through the nose and out through the mouth. Slow and deliberate. Now that she was slowing her breathing down, she could feel her heart pounding wildly in her chest. This was not her first panic attack. But it had been a long time since she had one this bad. All the stress and emotions of the day had just been too much for her body to handle on top of everything else that was going on. The end of the world. That's what was happening.

Her pulse must have slowed down a little, because she felt Merle let go of her wrist. He laid her hand down on the bed next to her body. "Y'alright?," he asked. River nodded, then remembered it might be too dark in the cell for him to see her.

"Yeah," she said. She took another long deep breath. "That was a bad one. Haven't had one that bad in years." She brought her hands up, rubbing at her eyes. Smoothing the little pieces of hair back out of her face. Merle was kneeling on the floor next to her. Which couldn't be very comfortable for him. Yet he stayed there. Still as a statue like he was waiting for her to tell him what to do next.

Her hand crept out, finding his chest in the dark and then ghosting up to rest in the crook of his neck, her thumb brushing across the line of his jaw. He turned into her touch, pressing a kiss into the center of her palm. His face was rough with stubble.

"I jus' want to lie with you," he said, "won't try anythin' funny I swear." River didn't answer, not trusting herself to speak. Instead she moved, shifting her body to make room for him on the narrow mattress. The bed dipped under his weight and then his knees were tucking in behind hers and his arm was wrapping around, pulling her back snug against his chest.

"Just for a few minutes," she whispered, "You can't be in here when the girls wake up." River felt his body tense. He wanted to argue with her. Or maybe what she said had just hurt his feelings. Either way he only tensed up for a moment. Then he relaxed and pulled her close again.

"I'll only stay until ya fall asleep," he assured her. River mumbled something else. Her voice was thick with exhaustion. She clasped his one good hand between her two smaller ones and brought it up to hold it under her chin. Her hips shifted, then her shoulders, tucking in closer to him so that his body was practically engulfing hers. His head was behind hers, his bad arm stretched out at an awkward angle above his head to keep from banging into her with his metal sleeve. If River let him sleep with her again, he was going to need to remember to take that thing off first.

He listened to the sound of her breathing. It only took a few minutes before it became slow and even. Merle thought about staying. Even though he promised he would leave once she was asleep. It felt good to have her in his arms again. The last time had been years before the outbreak. She let him come over while the girls were away at some sort of sleepover.

But he had a throbbing boner that needed his attention before his balls turned blue. And his arm was about to fall alseep from the uncomfortable angle he was lying in. Merle got up slowly and tucked River's sleeping bag in around her. When he stepped outside the cell he startled, backing up and banging his arm piece against the bars with a loud metal clang.

"What the fuck?," he cursed. Carol was standing against the opposite wall. Shrouded by the shadows, he could only see the outline of her body and the glint of her eyes. Like cat's eyes. Standing there watching him like some kind of stalker. Once she knew that he saw her she stepped away from the wall, getting closer to him.

"If you even think about laying your hands on any of them," she hissed, "I'll cut your throat while you sleep."

"That so?," Merle asked her. He didn't back away, instead he moved into her personal space a little. Seeing how serious she was about her threat. He could tell she was afraid, but she held her ground. A soft chuckle, almost silent, issued from him. At that Carol turned and stalked off down the corridor. He watched her go, thinking about how much she had changed since he had known her back at the Atlanta camp. He watched and wondered if his brother had anything to do with that change.

TWD

River woke up actually feeling refreshed for once. She usually sat up most of the night while the girls slept, listening for any possible threat. But here in the prison, she had been able to sleep without being afraid that something or someone was going to creep up on them. River had about five seconds of peace and quiet before Wren's screams rousted her from her bed.

The girl was sitting up on the bottom bunk. Just screaming in absolute terror. The noise was blood curdling. Like she was being ripped limp from limp by some horrible boogeyman. There was blood on the tips of her fingers and River went flying across the small cell to see what was wrong with her. There was blood on the girl's sleeping bag. But not a lot. And most of it was between her legs.

Harley had also been woken by her sister's loud shrieks and she came flying down from the top bunk with a knife in her hand, ready for battle. She stared at her sister for a moment before she figured out what the hell was going on. Then she started laughing. Wren was scared of her own damn period.

"Harley!," her mother hissed at her. That meant stop fucking laughing. Right the fuck now. Harley tried. But it was just so funny. Her mom was sitting in the bed with Wren now, trying to calm the girl down. And she was just carrying on like it was the end of her life. Harley turned and poked around in the small bag she had brought in from the camper. She found what she was looking for. A tampon.

"Stop screaming over your rag Wren," she told her sister, "you've seen me get mine a hundred times. Just plug it up." With that she flung the tampon at her younger sister. It bounced off her head and landed in her lap. Wren looked down at it and started screaming even louder.

By now the horrible screams had woken every single person in the entire prison. And probably anyone else that had the misfortune to be within a mile of the place. Harley's uncle Daryl and her dad both came rushing into the cell like they were ready to kill someone. Uncle Daryl even had his crossbow up. All loaded up with an arrow like he was ready to kill the puberty fairy.

"It's alright," her mom told them, "she's just upset because she started her period." Wren stopped screaming long enough to look over at the two men. She looked at them and then back down at her bloody crotch. Then started up screaming again. Except this time she was screaming for them to GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT! Harley had never seen her Uncle move that fast in her whole life. Him and her dad. They ran out of that cell and scattered like rats. Harley started laughing again, ignoring the dirty looks her mother was giving her.

"STOP LAUGHING AT ME!," Wren hollered at her. She was still screaming, but at least she was making some sense now. Wren buried her face in their mother's shoulder and started sobbing like a baby. River rubbed her back and pointed her finger at Harley.

"Go out to the camper and get her some clean clothes and a maxi pad," she told her older daughter, "this is NOT funny." Harley didn't stop laughing, but she did get up and head in the general direction of the camper. A few seconds later Carol appeared in the doorway. She had a package of wet wipes in her hands and a sheet draped over her arm. River smiled gratefully at her.

The woman came in and tied the sheet up against the bars so they would have a little more privacy. Then she helped River pull her daughter out of bed. By now Wren had managed to regain some form of control over herself. She was still sniveling and wiping at her eyes, but at least the ear peircing shrieking had stopped. River held the girl against her and rubbed her back, assuring her everything was going to be just fine. She was just becoming a woman and that was nothing to be scared of.

"I... I...," Wren stuttered, "I saw the blood and I was afraid those monsters would be able to smell me." River hugged her daughter tighter. Even becoming a woman had been tainted by this stupid outbreak. Not that getting your period was such a joy, but she wished her daughters didn't have to grow up afraid for their lives over every little thing.

"We just need to get you cleaned up and then they won't be able to smell you at all," Carol offered. Wren looked up at her and then looked at her mother for confirmation. River nodded. Harley chose that moment to poke her head back into the cell. Thankfully, she had done as she was asked. There were clean clothes in her hands, and a whole package of pads.

"You can borrow my black yoga pants," Harley offered, "they'll be more comfortable than jeans." She held the items out for her sister. Wren was clinging to mom like a baby koala. She looked at the bundle Harley was offering her suspiciously. "I'm sorry for laughing at you, okay?," Harley finally said. Wren nodded and her little hand snaked out to grab the clothes. Harley stood guard in the doorway of the cell while her mom and Carol helped Wren get cleaned up.

Once Wren was clean and dressed, she felt much better. Her mom and Carol took her clothes and sleeping bag outside to wash them while Harley made them some breakfast. Harley noticed most of the other women were making it a point to stop by and offer her a few words of advice that came with their understanding smiles. She was starting to feel like she had become a member of some kind of secret club that she had not even know existed before.

The women all smiled at her. All except for the quiet black woman that kept the sword strapped to her back. She didn't say a word. And she didn't smile. Instead she set a little crinkly package on the table in front of Wren as she passed by heading outside. A fun sized pack of peanut m&m's. Wren smiled at the woman's back and stuffed the candy into the waistband of her sisters yoga pants because they didn't have any pockets.


	7. Chapter 7

Red River Blue

Chapter 7

Harley poked through the cans of food that were set up on a shelf in what served as the prison's small kitchen area. It looked like a lot, but considering half of it was condiments, the pickings were actually pretty slim. She settled on a large can of boiled potatoes. They had a couple cans of corned beef hash and a can of spam in the camper. Plus a jar of fire roasted peppers. If she chopped that all up and fried it in her mom's big cast iron pan, it would probably taste alright. Maybe even be something close to edible.

"You're going to make breakfast?"

The quiet voice came from behind Harley, and she turned to see who was talking to her. It was that little blonde girl. Beth, the old guy's daughter. She was balancing that little squealing baby on her hip. Must be weird having parents that old. Harley's mom was only fourteen years older than her. Maybe that's why this girl was so quiet. Harley was pretty sure it was the first time she had even heard the girl speak.

"Or are you getting stuff ready so your mom can do it?," Beth asked. Harley bit back a smile.

"My mom only likes to bake," Harley explained. She did okay with the fish the day before, but Harley had been watching her close to make sure she didn't burn it or flip it a million times and make the skin soggy. The baby started to fuss, and Harley watched Beth pull out what she needed to make a bottle for the girl.

"Why don't you just give her the tit?," Harley asked. She remembered her mom nursing Wren. Everywhere her mother went the girl used to cling to her like a baby koala. It would be a pain in the ass, but it still seemed like that would be much easier than finding clean water and formula for a baby that was probably eating at least every four hours. Beth's eyes got wide and then her face turned about ten different shades of red.

"Oh, she's not mine," Beth finally said, "her mom died having her." Harley nodded her understanding. She felt bad for the little squirt. It would be hard to grow up without a mom. Even in the old world. If she didn't have hers who knew what would have happened to her. Her dad could never be depended on for anything. And her nana died when she was four. So she probably would have ended up wherever kids with no parents went.

"Here, I kin hold'er while you make the bottle," Harley offered, holding her hands out for the girl. Beth hesitated and then handed the little bundle over. She was going to give the girl instructions on how to hold the baby properly, but it was obvious that she already knew what to do. Harley held the baby carefully, but with confidence. She noticed Beth looked surprised, so she explained. "My mom didn't want me gettin' knocked up like she did," Harley told the other girl, "so she used to make me volunteer at a daycare place down the road from us. Guess she thought all them screamin' babies would be good birth control."

Beth laughed a little at the story while she measured the formula into Judith's bottle and shook it up to mix it. She took the baby back to feed her and Harley walked out to the camper to get the cans of food and the pan she planned to cook them in.

Her mom was doing laundry with that gray haired lady, washing Wren's crap out. She must have decided to wash her own clothes out because she was wearing one of the uniform's from the bakery. A pink tank top and short cutoff demin shorts. Uncle Daryl was leaning against the wall, smoking and trying to pretend he wasn't staring at her mom's ass. Harley scratched at her nose to hide her smirk. Who did he think he was fooling?

"Harley, you want your clothes washed too?," River called over to her, "there's another bakery uniform you can wear until they dry." Harley nodded. They were stuck here for the day at least, so she might as well get some clean clothes out of it.

She pulled herself up into the camper and quickly changed her clothes. Then she grabbed the things she had come out to the camper to get and piled them into the large pan to take them back inside, dropping her clothes off to her mom on the way.

"You look cute sweetie," her mom told her, pulling her close just long enough to plant a little kiss on her cheek. "Love you baby." Harley leaned into her mother's embrace but as she walked away her face got cloudy again. Her mom was happy. Too happy. That usually only meant one thing. Something was going on between her and _him_ again. Harley sighed.

The bastard she had the misfortune to be graced with as a father was nothing more than a two bit sperm donor. A drunk and a drug addict. He could never be trusted. She had seen it happen time and time again over the years. Her mother would finally get herself together. Everything would start going great for them. Then _he_ would show back up. And he would ruin everything. A few times they even had to move because of him. Didn't matter how far they ran though, he always found them. Even now at the end of the world they had somehow managed to get mixed up with him again. And now her mother was humming while she washed out Wren's bloody sleeping bag. Disgusting. Just absolutely disgusting.

Harley got the pan heating and since Wren was refusing to go outside, she sent that kid in the hat out to drain all the water out of the cans. Then she chopped everything up and dumped it into the scorching hot pan. The trick was letting it sit without stirring it so the potatoes would get a crispy crust on the bottom.

The smell of food cooking was bringing people out from their cells or away from whatever tasks they had been doing. The women each took a few seconds to offer Wren a little sympathy or maybe a bit of advice concerning her visit from Aunt Flow. Harley was slightly irritated by how much attention her sister was getting for throwing a fit, but she couldn't be too mad. These people did seem like they were just trying to be nice. She decided she would let it go as long as Wren shared out some of the chocolate candy that black woman with the crazy hair just slipped her.

Beth's dad came in, hobbling on his crutches. He sat down and Beth handed him the baby so she could help Harley get the plates out. Beth picked through the bushel of peaches and plucked out the ripest ones, piling them into a bowl and setting it in the middle of the table. Wren scooted close to Hershel so she could get a better look at the little baby in his arms.

"She's so cute," Wren gushed. Hershel handed the baby over, cautioning the girl to be careful and support Judith's head. "Now that I'm a woman that means I can have a baby someday," Wren informed Beth's father. Beth and Harley giggled.

"You hafta have sex first ya dummy," Harley told her sister. Wren wrinkled her nose up at the thought of doing something so disgusting. Hershel looked down at Judith and smiled as he tried to maintain his composure. The conversation was bordering on innapropriate, but he was happy to see that his younger daughter was smiling. Beth had such a sweet smile. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen it. Having girls her own age around would be good for her. Even if they were not the type of friends he would have approved of her having in the old world, in this new world they were just about perfect.

Hershel steered the conversation in another direction, asking the girls a little about their lives before the turn and what subjects they liked in school. Harley told him she used to play a lot of sports and the guitar. Her younger sister liked to dance and read books. Beth and Harley started talking about music while Hershel asked Wren a little more about what sorts of books she liked to read. Carl even chimed in, talking about his comics. The atmosphere in the room was friendly and relaxed. Then the girls' father walked in.

Wren was all smiles, showing him that she had been trusted to hold the baby. The man smoothed his hand over her hair and sat down next to the girl. Hershel felt the pressure in the room increase dramatically. Harley turned her back on the man, dishing the food she had cooked out onto the plates. Hershel could see the tension in her slim shoulders. Her jaw ticked and he knew she was grinding her teeth. He could also see that Merle had not failed to notice the change in his older daughter's demenor, but was pretending nothing was wrong.

"You cook breakfast there angel?," he asked the girl, "smells good."

With that Harley turned and slammed the spatula down on the table. She had prepared herself to ignore him. But the use of his old pet name for her had put her over the edge. Who did that asshole think he was? Calling her Angel. He didn't have the right.

"My name is Harley," she hissed, "In case you don't remember." She flipped up her middle finger, practically shoving it into Merle's face. "You might have fooled mom, but you don't fool me. Asshole!"

With that she stormed out of the room and headed for the cell she had slept in the night before, throwing herself down on the bed. She balled up her pillow and held it close to her chest, trying to hold off the tears that she knew were coming.

Hershel sat there for a moment with his mouth hanging open, rather shocked at the girl's behavior. Just a few moments before, she had been making polite and pleasant conversation with him and Beth. She had some fire in her, that was for sure. It took more courage than most grown men had to stand up to a man like Daryl's brother.

Hershel noticed Beth and Carl looked as shocked as he did, while Merle and Wren were pretty much just carrying on as though the girl's outburst was just business as usual for them. Hershel waited a moment to see if Merle planned to go after the girl and speak to her. When it was clear he wasn't going anywhere, Hershel spoke up.

"Would you mind if I had a word with your daughter?," he asked Merle. Merle shrugged. River already told him to let the girl alone and give her space. But she didn't say anything about Hershel talking to her. If Hershel thought he could help her after three different trained professionals hadn't been able to make so much as a dent, he could knock himself out.

"It's your funeral," Merle told him. Hershel scooped some hash onto a plate and set a fork on top of it. Then he hobble stepped awkardly over to the cell Harley was in, moving slowly so the food didn't spill. He tapped on the bars.

"GO AWAY," the girl hollered. She sounded like she trying to hide the fact that she was crying. Hershel pushed past the sheet that was covering the cell door and set the food down on the empty upper bunk across from the one Harley was lying in. He sat down on the lower bunk. "I'm not hungry, and I said go away," she mumbled.

"Just wanted to make sure you were alright," Hershel said. The girl grunted in repsonse, not turning away from the wall. He brought his hand up stroking his beard and trying to think of what he could say to make her understand. She was hurting herself more than anyone else.

"For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your father will not forgive your sins...," Hershel quoted.

"What is that?," Harley asked, "church stuff?" Hershel admitted it was in fact 'church stuff', it was a quote from the book of Matthew. Harley finally turned away from the wall, her face blotchy red and stained with tears.

"I left my skateboard out," she said. At first Hershel was confused as to what she was talking about, but then she wiped at her nose and continued speaking. "I left it out and my dad came home drunk and tripped over it. He was carrying a bottle of booze and it broke on the floor. So he got mad and beat my mom's face in with my skateboard. What does God think about that?"

Hershel paused, taking in her story. He felt like he wanted to pass judgement on the man, but then he remembered all the terrible things he had done when he was deep into the bottle. Selling his father's watch. He was so bad Maggie's mother would lock the bedroom door to keep him out and make him sleep in the couch.

"I'm sure he's sorry about that," Hershel quietly offered.

"He's always sorry," Harley spit back, "Doesn't mean he won't do it again." Hershel was quiet again. Thinking. She was at least talking, so there was hope.

"My Gran used to tell me that holding a grudge was like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die," Hershel told the girl. She didn't respond to that, instead Harley turned away from him and back towards the wall. Hershel could tell she was shutting down. She needed some time to think and digest. Hershel left the plate of food for her and headed back to the table.

Harley could feel her stomach grumbling. And the plate of food Hershel had left for her smelled so good. She finally kicked off the blanket she had yanked over herself and rolled over. She thought she was alone in her cell, so seeing someone sitting on the opposite bunk scared her. That silent black woman was sitting on the opposite bunk, right where Hershel had been sitting before. Harley had not even heard her come in.

"You here to give me another lecture?," she asked the woman once she had recovered from her shock. Michonne shook her head.

"Came to see if you want to get out of here for a while," Michonne said. Her voice was throaty and musical. Not what Harley expected her to sound like. Harley thought about her offer and quickly nodded. "Eat up then, because we are leaving in a few minutes." With that Michonne got up and left the cell as silently as she had entered.


	8. Chapter 8

Red River Blue

Chapter 8

 ****Big thanks to anyone that took the time to leave a review. This chapter is a little short and mostly filler, but I had to cut it off from the next one or it would have been too long and had a weird flow. On the plus side I have the next one ready to go for tomorrow. ****

"I was born at night, but it wasn't last night," River informed the man standing in front of her. Harley was over by the car, looking like she was going on this run with out without her mother's approval. River shifted her weight looking from Rick to Daryl and then back to her daughter. She knew the girl could handle herself, but it was still a hard feeling. Letting Harley out of her sight to go on a run with people she barely knew. It felt wrong.

"There's four o'you going," River said, "if Harley is one a them, then whatever guns y'all bring back we want twenty five percent, no matter if we stay here or not." Daryl was next to her, bobbing his head at Rick. River threw him a dirty look. She could do her own negotiations, she didn't need his help.

Rick thought her offer over. He was hard pressed to give up guns he had not even retrieved yet. But he also wanted to make this woman happy, so she would stay. And if she stayed, then it's not like he was really giving up any of the guns anyway. He was planning to arm everyone including River and her girls, that's why he was going for the guns in the first place. Rick nodded his head and stuck out his hand to the woman.

"Deal," he said. She repeated the word and pumped his hand up and down a few times. Then she headed over to the car to have a quiet word with her daughter. Mostly warning her to stay alert and be careful. They hugged each other tight and then River returned to her laundry. Daryl opened and shut the gate for the group that was leaving before he followed after her.

"You still thinkin' bout leavin'?," he asked. "Rick's goin' to talk ta him," Daryl told her, "Wait until after that to decide what you wanna do." By him River assumed he meant the leader of the other group they were having trouble with.

Daryl's words came out sounding more like a question, so River nodded her head. If Rick and this man were meeting up, maybe there was a chance this could be resolved peacefully. She couldn't leave today even if she wanted to. Not with how scared Wren was. The girl was convinced the walkers would be able to smell her. River had not even been able to talk her into coming out of the building. Which was really too bad because despite the impending doom of the end of the world, it was actually a beautiful day outside.

She had to clean up Wren's things, so River decided she might as well wash out the rest of their dirty clothes and blankets since she had somewhere to hang them all up to dry for once. Carol offered to help her and River was more than happy to not only have an extra pair of hands, but also for the other woman's company. It felt good to have someone besides one of her teenage daughters to talk to for a change. They had been alone so long, she thought she would be nervous and afraid of these new people, but instead she found herself craving the company.

Daryl leaned against the wall close by, smoking. The clothes River had on were feeling pretty ripe, so she had already gone into the earlier camper and changed. The only clean outfit she had left was her bakery uniform. Short demin cutoffs and a pink tank top with the bakery logo on the front. Not the most practical ensemble for fighting dead cannibals. River had simply shrugged and pulled them on, then headed back out to toss her dirty things in the wash bucket.

"Thanks a fuckin' ton River," Daryl announced from his leaning spot, like he had just finally noticed what she was wearing, "now I want a cupcake." Carol snickered. She had never heard Daryl talk so much. He had probably said more in the last twenty four hours than he had said in the last six months combined. And Carol would never have pegged him as someone that had a sweet tooth. River noticed Carol's curious glance, so she leaned closer, pulling at her tank top where it was stretched funny over her breasts so the other woman could read the logo.

"I used to run a bakery," River explained. She figured it wasn't the most impressive pre-apocolypse job. Now she was wishing she had gone to school to be a nurse or a electrician. Learned something more useful than how to make frosting light and fluffy. But baking always made her happier than anything else except for her girls.

"What's with the sexy lady?," Carol asked. The front of the tank top said BabyCakes. Next to the words there was a silhouette of a woman's body, like the kind that truckers put on the flaps behind their tires. River chewed at her bottom lip an her eyes flicked towards Daryl. He gave her a slight dip of his head. She knew what that meant. Carol was cool, it was alright to tell her the truth. And River knew people would find out eventually anyway. They always did. It might be better to just get things out in the open now.

"Uh," she stammered a little, searching for the right words, "While I was in culinary school and saving up for my bakery... I did a different sort of work." River watched Carol's face to see what her reaction was going to be. The woman just looked confused. So River explained a little further. "The sort of work you do without much clothes on."

"Oh," Carol said. She felt a little scandalized. And maybe slightly shocked. And then she realized how silly it was to feel shocked about someone taking off their clothes for money in a world where people were now willing to kill each other for a snickers bar. "You were a stripper?," she asked.

"Technically I was a go-go dancer," River said with a laugh now that she could see Carol wasn't going to judge her. She still wore skimpy outfits but at least she kept them on while she was dancing.

"She was in a music video," Daryl announced. How proud he sounded when he announced that made both women crack up laughing. Like River was the president of the free world. The coolest person he knew.

"I was an extra and you couldn't even see me in the video unless you paused the tape and squinted your eyes just right," she said between giggles. That job had paid well though, that was for damn sure. She paid a whole years tuition for Harley's preschool with the money she made from doing that video. That had been after the first time she and Merle got divorced.

Holding her shirt out again, River explained the logo. When she quit dancing, she offered jobs at her bakery to several of the girls she danced with. Since it wasn't any big secret that the bakery was being manned by a pack of former adult entertainers, they just decided to have some fun and run with it. It had worked like a charm too. That place had been packed everyday for lunch, and tons of local businesses would order in because they knew the girls would come to drop their food off in short shorts and skimpy tank tops. Sort of like Hooters, but with frosted cookies instead of chicken wings.

Carol laughed at River's story, and they went back to scrubbing at the laundry. Flicking a little water at Daryl from time to time and teasing him that he needed a bath worse than the blankets. Carol thought about her own situation with Ed. The main reason she had never left him was simple. She had no job. No money. And nothing that she would be able to do for a job to make enough money to support her and Sophia. They would have had to go back to that shelter. And that place was even worse than living with Ed.

"If I had the looks for it," Carol said, "I would have done what you did." River stopped what she was doing and looked at the other woman, wondering if she was being sincere. Sometimes people just said that to be polite. Then they called her a whore behind her back. She could tell from the look on Carol's face that she meant what she said.

"You have the tits for it," River informed her. Carol turned a little pink in the cheeks at that remark. She knew she didn't have anything any man would pay to see.

"No I don't," she insisted. Her hair had started going grey when she was twenty five. People used to think she was Sophia's grandmother instead of her mother. And even though she hated to admit it, all the horrible things Ed used to say to her were still stuck in her mind. She had a fat ass. Saggy titties. An ugly old face and chicken legs.

"Yes you do," River insisted. She lowered her voice a little, then said, "Daryl thinks so, I saw him scoping them out when you were bending over the laundry bucket."

"I'm standing right here," Daryl announced, "I can fuckin' hear you River." River's quiet voice was about as low-pitched as Merle's quiet voice. At that both women started up laughing and cackling at him until Daryl finally waved his middle finger at them and trudged back inside the prison. He had not been scoping on anything. Carol's titties just happened to appear where he was already looking. Wasn't his fault. What was he supposed to do? Look away? Besides the only other thing to look at out here was River's ass in her little cutoff shorts, and he was actively trying to avoid looking there. It felt dirty, like looking at his own sister's ass. Just because he snuck a peek, didn't mean he liked Carol like that.


	9. Chapter 9

Red River Blue

Chapter 9

Harley watched as Michonne stepped forward, slicing down several walkers at a time with her sword. I need to get a sword like that, Harley thought to herself. She had a good sized knife and a handgun in addition to the bow and arrow she favored. But she couldn't take down three walkers at a time with any of her weapons.

Rick gave them a whistle and the two women headed into the building behind him and Carl. But inside they found nothing but an empty room where it was obvious that loads and loads of weapons had been stored. Harley kicked into a stray bullet with the toe of her boot. She picked it up and stuffed it into the pocket of her shorts, using her other hand to cover the underside of her ass that she was pretty sure was hanging out the bottom of her shorts.. If she knew she was going on a run today, she would not have given her good clothes to her mother to be washed. Now she was stuck looking like a post apocolyptic stripper. Carl had loaned her his jacket. The sleeves were too short, but at least it covered some of her arms and most of her cleavage..

"There's a few other places in town we can check," Rick said. He sounded about as disappointed as Harley felt. It felt like by the law of averages, something should have worked out well for them by now.

"Places with as many guns as are in here?," Michonne asked. Rick shook his head. "We need as many guns as were in this room," the woman added. They were getting ready to go to war. And they were already badly out manned. There was no way they could do this without guns. If this run came up a bust, they were going to have to leave the prison and try to move somewhere out of the governor's reach.

"This really sucks," Harley announced, kicking a metal rack halfway across the room with her boot. It slammed into the wall with a loud crash and Rick gave her a dirty look.

"Quiet," he hissed. Harley gave him an halfhearted shrug before she turned around and trudged out of the building.

Rick led the way down the street, but they were only halfway into town when they started seeing strange things. Wooden stakes that were set up in circular formations. Small animals in cages dangled in the center, drawing the walkers in.

"Is that a cat?," Carl asked. Harley put a hand against the boy's back, shuffling him along and telling him not to look. The walkers were stuck on the wooden stakes, making them less of a threat. So the small group left them alone as they squeezed through the small opening between the wooden spikes.

"I don't like this," Michonne announced.

"Yeah, this place is giving me the creeps," Harley added. Someone had obviously set up shop here. And since the animals in the cages were still alive, that meant whatever crazy person had put them there was probably still alive too. She didn't want to end up in a cage herself. In fact she was starting to think she wanted to say fuck the weapons and get the hell out of this town while the getting was good.

They walked about another block before they started getting shot at. Michonne's arms came out, slamming Harley and Carl back against the side of the closest building. Rick was shooting back at the gunman, who Harley spotted on top of one of the buildings. She pulled her handgun out and took aim. Stepping away from the building, Harley squared up her feet and held her gun in both hands, getting the man's head in her sights. She fired. It wasn't a direct hit, but she grazed the side of his head and the man fell back onto the roof.

"Got that fucker," she announced. "That's what you get for shooting at us, dickhole!," she shouted. Michonne grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down the alley and around the back of the building the man had been shooting at them from.

"He might not be dead, so be careful," the woman told her. Harley nodded and climbed up the ladder behind Michonne. When they got to the rooftop, the man wasn't dead. But the bullet graze to the side of his head had knocked him out cold. Harley kicked his rifle away from him and slung it over her shoulder. Finders keepers. This was a nice ass gun too. All fancy and shiny black with a scope on the top. Michonne took the rest of his weapons and pocketed them. Then she pulled the mask off his face and pressed two fingers to the pulse point in his throat.

"We should shoot him dead before that cop gets up here," Harley said. She could hear Rick and Carl on the ladder. When Michonne made no move to kill the man, Harley pulled her handgun out and leveled it at the man's head. Rick swung over onto the roof before she pulled the trigger.

"Hey, hey, wait," Rick hollered, "I think I know him." Harley didn't shoot, but she didn't stop pointing her gun at the man either. She didn't look much like her father at first glance, but Rick could see Daryl's brother there plain as day in the expressions on her face. And in her eyes. They were blue, but insead of bringing to mind cornflowers or a cloudless sky, they reminded Rick more of cold rolled steel.

"Then why was he shootin' at us?," Harley asked. This was getting more ridiculous by the minute. Now they had to leave this guy alive because Rick thought maybe he knew him. He just tried to kill them. She didn't like it, but decided it wasn't worth an argument.

"I don't know but I mean to find out," Rick told the girl. He stared at her until she lowered her weapon. Then he took the zip tie Carl was handing him and bound Morgan's wrists together. Harley wandered away, like the scene had suddenly become boring to her. Michonne pushed in a door that led down into the building and Harley followed after her with her gun up.

By the time Rick had dragged Morgan's body down the steps and into the place where he must have been living, Harley already had a large duffel bag out, loading it up with guns and ammo. Michonne was eating out of a bag of chips, crunching loudly.

"Hey, we aren't just going to take his stuff," Rick told them. Michonne ignored him and stuffed another chip into her mouth. Harley turned and made the Merle face at him again.

"This stuff ain't his," Harley said, "he jus' took it from that locker." She heard the deal Rick made with her mom. So as far as she was concerned, a fourth of this was hers. And she was taking it. Rick could do whatever he wanted with the rest. She turned back around and started poking through a container of bullets.

"It's not like one man needs all this," Michonne said, trying to ease the tension. Rick flopped Morgan down on the bed and took his pulse again. Michonne did have a point. Morgan had no need for an entire arsenal. He was only one man. And they really needed these guns. Harley tossed an empty bag at Carl and told him to start packing. He looked at his dad first, but when Rick didn't voice an objection, he did like the older girl told him and started loading up.

"Don't take his food," Rick cautioned. When he turned back towards Morgan, Michonne slipped a peanut butter power bar into her pocket. Then she grabbed an empty tupperware and started loading it up with guns. By the time they were done packing up the guns, Morgan was still passed out. Rick wanted to stay until the man woke up, so Michonne took the kids to go look around the rest of the town for anything useful.

They needed guns. But they also needed baby supplies for Judith. Formula and a crib at the very least. Diapers and clothes would help too. They stopped at a camping supply store first. The door was already broken in. Probably by Morgan. All the useful things had been taken, but there was plenty of junk still lying around. Whoever came in and looted must have had no need for women's clothing, because that section was untouched.

"Score," Harley called out. She yanked a good looking pair of camo pants off the rack. Her size was hard to find since she was tall and thin through the waist. These were nice pants too. Better than her mom could have afforded before the turn. They had lots of pockets on the sides to stash stuff in. Harley toed her boots off, watching where she stepped to avoid the broken glass that was strewn about. Setting her bag down and whipping the belt off that she used to hold her weapons, she wiggled out of her shorts and let them drop to the ground. Then she pulled her new pair of pants on.

"Much better," Michonne said, offering her opinion up. Harley smiled and strapped her belt back on, adjusting it so her handgun was easy to reach. She shoved her feet back into her boots and tightened up the laces. She turned when she heard Michonne swear under her breath.

"Carl's gone," she hissed. The woman glanced towards the door and then looked back at Harley. The girl gestured towards the door.

"Go after him," she said, "I'm just goin' ta grab a few things and I will be right behind you." Michonne hesitated a moment and then went jogging out the door just in time to see Carl disappearing around the corner down the street. She took off down the street after him.

Harley poked through the rack, taking another pair of pants in her size and grabbing a smaller pair that she thought would fit her sister. Then she started looking for a shirt. She found a black one in her size that said _All I care about is bow hunting_ on the front above a picture of deer's antlers. She pulled her tank top off over her head and dropped it on top of her bag. She was taking the new shirt off the hanger when she smelled something wrong. It wasn't the smell of a walker. But more like the smell of an unwashed living person. Bad B.O. is what she smelled. Coming at her from upwind.

Harley spun, her hand reaching for the gun at her hip. But she was too late. The man she had smelled caught her by the wrist, twisting painfully until she dropped the gun. It clattered to the ground near her boots. She froze, staring at the man and sizing him up. He was filthy dirty. Even his teeth looked dirty, like he hadn't even tried to clean them in weeks. He moved in close enough for her to smell his breath. It smelled like something had crawled into his mouth and died. He had big eyes, like he might possibly have been something close to good looking if he wasn't so smelly and dirty. His dark hair hung in his face and his forehead was all cut up. But not like he fell and hurt it, more like he had tried to carve some kind of design into it himself and done a piss poor job of it. It sort of looked like a wonky letter W.

The man was slightly taller than her, and wider in the shoulders. But he also looked like he was skin and bones under his clothes. He had not had a decent meal in a long time. Harley assesed all this, knowing that the man would probably have an intial burst of energy, but tire out quickly if he had was as starving as he looked. He was bigger than her, but maybe not stronger. The trick was going to be staying calm enough to let him get in close.

"What do we have here?," the man asked. He sounded like he was talking more to himself. His eyes roamed over her body, lingering on all the exposed flesh. She had always had a more athletic looking body, hard with muscle. But heredity had eventually caught up with her and her breasts had swollen up so large that she had to wear a regular bra with a sports bra on top when she played field hockey. That's where the man's eyes lingered the longest. On the creamy firm flesh of the tops of her breasts that curved out of the top of the practical white cotton bra she had on.

The man reached for her, his hand closing down on her breast and squeezing painfully. He smiled, thinking that since she hadn't yanked away yet, she wasn't going to object to what he was going to try and do to her. The man had a gun on his belt, but she doubted he had any bullets left. Harley leaned back slightly, smiling back at the man. Then she jerked forward, slamming her forehead into the man's face. She felt the crunch of his nose and yanked back. Then she headbutted him again as she brought her knee up into his groin. The man fell to the ground, trying to clutch his face and balls at the same time. His nose and mouth were gushing blood in a steady pulse.

Harley grabbed the gun off his hip and snatched her own gun up. She tucked her gun away and pressed the button to release the clip on his gun into her hand. Just like she thought. No bullets. She chucked the man's gun at him. It hit him in the head with a bonk and bounced, landing on the floor a few feet away. Harley pulled her leg back and mule kicked the man in the gut. That's what he got for thinking he could rape her. Sick fucker. She retrieved the shirt she wanted from the floor and pulled it on over her head. Then she stuffed her shorts, tank top, and the pants she grabbed for herself and Wren in her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

The man was starting to recover from the beating she had given him and as she headed out of the store he yelled at her.

"You little fucking bitch," the man hollered, "I am going to fucking kill you." That stopped Harley in her tracks. She was going to just let him be, but he had to go and threaten her again. She pulled out her handgun and walked back into the store.

"Yer goin' to kill me huh?," she asked the man. He didn't really look at her so much as the gun she was pointing at him. He put his hands up, but his words had already sealed his fate. "See how far you get like this," she suggested. Then she shot him. Not in the head. In the knee. The dead would take care of the rest.

The man screamed and howled in pain. He also started swearing and cussing at her again. Like he was going to do anything to anyone. He would be lucky if he lived though the rest of the day. Harley just ignored him and headed down the street in the direction Michonne and Carl had gone, humming to herself as she wiped the blood off her face with a hankerchief.


	10. Chapter 10

Red River Blue

Chapter 10

 **** Just a little warning, this story is rated M for reason and will contain some explicit sexual content. Also I know I have some readers that are just following me as an author now, but if you could click follow on the story as well that would make my day - I can tell from my views I have close to 100 people that are reading the new chapters of this story as they pop up but only around 30 or so actual followers. There are inspiration pictures up on my tumblr under the same pen name, GillyFlower34. Thank you so much again to anyone that took the time to leave a review and I hope you are all enjoying the story so far. ****

River finished up her laundry and got it all hung up to dry. But she still felt like she was full of nervous energy. She knew she wouldn't be able to relax until Harley got back from the run River had reluctantly agreed to let her go on. So after went inside the prison and checked on Wren, she decided to clean out her camper. River tossed the book she had taken from her daughter on the dash. Wren would snatch the book back and read it as soon as River wasn't looking, but for now at least the girl was reading something a little more appropriate for her age.

Harley had never shown much interest in boys. She was a quiet and serious girl. The sort that would rather practice her guitar in her room or go jogging instead of going to a party. Other than her anger problems, once she hit middle school, she pretty much had River on cruise control as far as the parenting went.

Wren was different. From the time she was a little girl, she had been telling her mother she couldn't wait to fall in love and get married. Now that they were around other people, and more specifically a boy her age, River decided she was going to have to start keeping a closer eye on her younger daughter. It seemed innocent enough when Wren and Carl were reading comics on her bunk together, but River knew from experience that hormones had a way of taking over. Wren reminded her of herself at that age. Ripe to fall in love. And that scared the shit out of her. She had only been a little older than Wren was now when she got pregnant with Harley.

 _Her mom had just come home from working a double shift at the factory, so River knew the woman was going to sleep like the dead. She waited until she was sure her mom was asleep before she went into her room and changed out of her pajamas. Underneath she was already wearing the only black bra and panties that she owned. Her mom wouldn't buy her anything that even bordered on sexy so River had shoplifted them from the mall. They were black and lacy and just looking at herself in the mirror wearing them made her feel funny deep down in the pit of her stomach._

 _Her hair was clean and it fell down her back like long soft curtain. She liked the way it felt against her bare skin and she wiggled her hips around, enjoying the sensation of her own freshly washed hair brushing against her soft skin. Her legs were shaved and so was the hair between her legs. The magazine River had swiped from her mom's room said men liked it better that way. She didn't want to come off like some stupid little girl that didn't know anything about sex. So she had propped on leg up on the edge of the bathtub and shaved everything off. River pulled on the flowery baby doll dress that she had picked out earlier, wishing she had something cooler looking to wear. Something sexier and more grown up looking. At least the dress was short, so it made her legs look long and thin._

 _She pulled on a pair of white ankle socks and stuffed her feet into her black boots. They weren't real doc martins, but you couldn't tell unless you looked really close. He's not going to be looking at your feet anyway, she reminded herself. That made her feel funny again, like the way she felt looking at herself almost naked in the mirror._

 _Now there was nothing to do except wait. Her mom got home from work around ten, so she told Merle she would meet him at eleven. That was fifteen minutes from now. River paced around her bedroom, peeking in the mirror from time to time to readjust her hair and make sure there was nothing in her teeth. She had been too nervous to eat dinner, so she didn't know what would have gotten into her teeth anyway, but just to be safe she checked them again. Then brushed them again. Then sucked on a mint._

 _Ten minutes later River was sneaking out her front door, tiptoe-ing carefully across the wooden deck to avoid the squeaky spots. She had snuck out before, but only to do silly shit like ring people's doorbells and run away. Never for the reason she was sneaking out tonight. Never to meet a boy she liked. She felt like a big bat was flapping around in her stomach as she walked past the few trailers that separated hers from the Dixons. The hair on her arms was standing up and she rubbed at them with her hands, wishing she had worn a sweater. It was a little scary to be out in the dark by herself and as she walked she started getting even more nervous. What if he forgot. What if he wasn't there. What if he didn't really like her and she was making herself look like a fool._

 _But once she rounded the corner, the butterflies went and she felt her heart start to pump wildly in her chest. Merle was waiting for her. Leaning against his bike, smoking a cigarette. He wasn't in the army fatigues this time. Instead he was wearing jeans and boots and a leather jacket. River forced herself to walk slowly. Running and jumping all over him like a puppy dog would not be a very grown up thing to do. And she was trying her best to seem as grown up as possible. Merle wouldn't waste his time on her if she started acting like some dumb little kid._

 _"That's what yer wearing?," he asked her. River looked down at herself. The hurt must have shown on her face, because he quickly corrected himself. "No, No, ya look real pretty," he said, "just next time jeans if we are riding the bike." River nodded and smiled from ear to ear. Not only had he said she was pretty, but he said next time. That meant he must already be thinking about taking her out again. And that made her tingle all the way down to her toes._

 _"Here," he said. He shrugged off his leather jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She stuffed her arms into the sleeves. The jacket was big on her, but she didn't care. She liked that she was wearing something of his. He dipped down and grabbed the zipper, clicking it together and zipping the coat up. She couldn't stop herself, River leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and rising up onto the toes of her boots to kiss him. She missed and got the side of his mouth, but he turned into her, pulling her closer and parting her lips with his tounge. The kiss made her head spin, like she was dizzy from spinning around in a tire swing._

 _Merle backed away from her and swung his leg over the bike. She quickly climbed on behind him, tucking her dress between her legs and under her so it wouldn't blow back. He stomped down with his boot and the bike sprung to life under her._

 _"Hold on," he told her. River didn't need to be told that twice. She snuggled in as close as she could and wrapped her arms around him. She could feel the rough fabric of his jeans against the insides of her thighs. That in combination with the heavy vibration of the bike under her made her wish she had worn jeans. The crotch of her panties already felt wet and it was making her feel self concious._

 _It wasn't until the bike slowed to a stop that River realized she had never even bothered to ask where they were going. She looked around. They were in a parking space in front of the one crummy little motel in town. Something about being at a motel made her feel shy and nervous all of the sudden. She felt her body tense up._

 _"Rented a room out for the two weeks I'm on leave," Merle explained to her, "Can't stay at my house." River nodded. He didn't have to say why he couldn't stay at his house. She already knew about his dad. And it made her feel better to know that he was already staying at this motel. It felt more like she was being invited to his house instead of to a place that he had rented only for the purpose of having sex with her._

 _She swung down off the bike and he took her hand in his, leading her up the cement steps and down the walkway to the room he was staying in. River wasn't sure what she expected to find inside. She had never been in a motel before. The room was simple and plain, everything inside it was neutral colored. There was a bed in the middle of the room and a small chair in the corner. Merle's duffle bag was sitting on the floor next to the chair and a small neat pile of his clothes were stacked up on the seat of it._

 _River wandered further into the room and took a peek in the bathroom. It was like the room. Plain and white and small. Behind her, Merle took the little plastic door knob hanger off the inside of the doorknob and placed it on the outside. Then he shut the door and locked it._

 _"What does that mean?," River asked, curious as to what the little plastic sign was and why he was moving it around._

 _"Means we don't want to be disturbed," he told her._

 _"Oh," she said, feeling the hot blush rising in her cheeks. She had been so excited to be with him, and now that she was here, she felt awkward and nervous. Like she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do. She stood there, scuffing one toe against the cheap carpet and toying with the zipper on Merle's coat._

 _"You want me to take you back home?," Merle asked her. She looked scared all of the sudden. And he wasn't into forcing himself on girls that didn't want him. Particularly not one as young as River. He shouldn't even really be messing with her in the first place. "I'll take you back home if you want me too."_

 _"No," River said, shaking her head firmly, "I don't want ta go home." She kicked at the carpet again and chewed on her bottom lip. "I'm just nervous," she admitted, "I don't know what to do." It was true. She had no idea what in the hell to do. Should she lie down? Start taking her clothes off? Wait to see what he was going to do? She didn't want to come off looking like some stupid little virgin. Epsecially after she had already lied and told Merle she wasn't one._

 _He smiled at her and crossed the small space between them, pulling her into his arms. Holding her. Then he backed away a little and unzipped his jacket, pulling it gently off her shoulders and tossing it on the chair on top of his neatly folded clothes. River knelt down and loosened up the laces on her boots. She toed them off, lifting one leg at a time to pull her socks off so her feet were bare. She dropped her socks down near her boots. The carpet was scratchy on her bare feet and she curled and uncurled her polished toes. She painted them red to match her fingernails. There was a little silver toe ring on the middle toe of her left foot._

 _When Merle saw her freshly painted toes, he realized River must have spent quite a lot of time and effort making herself pretty in order to please him. No girl had ever done that for him before. Her hair smelled like oranges and her skin was soft and smooth. He figured he ought to tell her how nice she looked, but for once in his life he was at a loss for words. So he pulled her close and kissed her instead. The way she responded to his kiss, just like she had the day before and near his bike before they left to come here. The technique wasn't there, he could tell she didn't really know what she was doing, but there was so much passion behind her touch. He would be hard pressed to explain it, but it was sort of like when River kissed him she really meant it. It made his dick throb in his pants._

 _His hands were on her waist and he let them glide slowly down, over the curves of her hips and down to her bare thighs. Then back up, pushing up under her dress so his hands were resting on the bare flesh over her lower back._

 _She surprised him then, breaking off their kiss and yanking her dress off over her head. She let it drop down on the floor near her socks and boots. Underneath she was wearing a lacy black bra and panties that matched. When he had beat off thinking about her, Merle had pictured her as a white cotton underpants type of girl. But this was so much hotter than that. He started yanking at his own clothes, eager to feel her soft skin against his. For once he wasn't worried about taking his shirt off in front of a girl. River was well aware of his family situation and he knew she wouldn't ask any questions about the scars on his back. Once he was standing in only his boxers, he noticed River's gaze was now directed at the tent he was pitching in his shorts. He pulled her close, pinning his erection between them. Moving his hips, he ground it into the soft flesh of her belly._

 _"That's all for you," he told her._

 _"Can I see it?," she asked. There was another surprise. He wasn't really sure what to say to that so he shrugged and nodded his head. River stepped closer, sliding her finger into the waistband of his shorts and pulling them out so she could peek inside. She stared at his dick for longer than he thought she would. Honestly, it was starting to make him a little self concious. Her eyes flicked up, her expression an equal mix of concern, excitement and curiousity._

 _"It is supposed to be that big and hard?," she asked. She was a little concerned for Merle, the thing in his pants looked really to burst like an overfilled water balloon. Merle laughed and assured her that it was in fact supposed to be that way. She looked down at it again. Her other hand came up, then stopped at the edge of his shorts._

 _"Can I touch it?," she asked. He tried not to laugh again. He didn't want to make her feel bad. And he definitely didn't want her to stop. He caught her slimmer hand in his larger one and guided it into his shorts, showing her how to touch him in a way that he liked. She shoved his shorts down with her other hand. They were really in her way. Then she touched him with both hands, exploring him gently with the soft pads of her fingertips. When she wrapped her hand around the base of his dick and started sliding it up and down, he moaned and leaned into her. Then he caught her by the wrist and pulled her hand away._

 _"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?," she asked. He shook his head._

 _"No it felt too good," he told her. River wasn't sure what that meant, but she made sure to nod her head like she knew what he was talking about. He kept hold of her wrist and pulled her towards the bed. "My turn to touch you now," he told her. The thought of his hand between her legs sent a shiver of pleasure up her spine. When they got to the edge of the bed, he reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. She shrugged the straps off and let it fall to the floor near her feet. He sat her down on the bed and then lifted her knees and turned her so she was lying back on the pillows. The air in the room felt cold against her freshly exposed skin. Her nipples were so hard they almost hurt and she held her arms against them to try and find some relief._

 _Merle pushed his shorts the rest of the way off and climbed onto the bed with her. He lay down next to her at first, then rolled on top and nestled his hips between her legs. They started kissing again. And it felt even better now that there was so much of her skin touching his. He kissed her mouth, then all over her face before sucking and licking a hot trail down her neck to her breasts. When he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked, she felt her back arch and her hips ground into his. Little noises were squeaking out of her. She had never felt anything in her life that felt as good as what was being done to her. River squeezed her eyes shut and lifted her arms to grip the corners of the pillow that was under her head. His hands were on her breasts and his mouth was moving down. The tip of his tounge trailed down, dipping into her belly button and then moving lower._

 _The next thing she felt was his hot breath through the thin fabric of her lacy panties. She thought she ought to be embarrassed, having someone's face in her most private area, but instead she found herself lifting her hips so push herself against his face. His hands left her breasts, and then she felt him hook his thumbs under the skimpy material of her underpants and rake them down off her legs. The rush of air felt cool against the dampness between her legs._

 _She was trimmed and shaved down there. Another surprise. Merle had been pretty sure River was lying about having had sex before, but now he wasn't so sure. Either way he was going to find out soon enough. First things first he wanted to make sure she enjoyed herself. That way she would let him fuck her again. And he definitely wanted to fuck her again. He wanted to fuck her as many times as possible until his leave was over and he had to go back to the army._

 _The cool wash of air was replaced by the feel of his warm mouth on her. His tounge and his fingers. There were so many sensations at once she wasn't even sure where or how she was being touched. Her legs fell open and her hips were lifting off the bed each time he slid his finger inside her. He slid a second finger in with the first, trying to stretch her out a little before he pushed his hard length inside. She was wet enough he didn't think it would hurt her but she was so damn tight. Just thinking about it was making him feel like he was going to come before he even got inside her. He flicked his tounge over the sensitive spot above her wet slit one more time before he heard her start to gasp for breath. Her legs were shaking and he could feel her insides spasming around his thick fingers._

 _He slid his fingers out of her and pulled himself up her body so he could kiss her. River's cheeks were flushed with color and her eyes were still shut. Once she felt his mouth on hers they fluttered open. The blue of her eyes was nothing but a tiny ring around her full black pupils. She kissed him back, then licked at her lips. He tasted funny, but sort of good too. She realized it was her own juices she was tasting on him and she blushed even redder._

 _"You ready?," he asked her._

 _"Ready for what?," she asked him, hoping he meant ready for more of whatever he had just done to her. Because she had liked that. A lot. He smiled and kissed her again._

 _"Gonna make you mine," he explained. River liked the sound of that, so she nodded her head. She felt his hand go between them, and then she felt him pushing into her. It felt good at first, but then deep inside of her she felt something rip, almost like someone had pinched her hard from the inside. She squeaked and he felt her nails dig into his back. So much for her silly lies about having done this before. He stopped moving, giving her a chance to get used to the feeling of having something so big inside her._

 _"Y'alright?," he whispered. She shook her head and then nodded it. "You want me to stop?"_

 _"No," she said as firmly as she had said it before when he asked her if she wanted him to take her home, "don't stop, I want to be yours."_

 _Her soft breathy words hit him like a semi truck at full speed. He covered her mouth with his and started moving. Pumping in and out of her. Moving slowly at first. Soon he felt her release the death grip she had on his back, and then her hips started rocking up to meet him when he pushed inside. But it was the little high pitched noises she was making that really put him over the edge. Moans of pleasure with a touch of shock and surprise to them. He came hard, shooting off deep inside her before he could bring her to an second climax. But he could tell she was getting close. He hoped the next time it would be easier for her, when it was only pleasure without the initial pain._

 _Merle flopped down on top of River and then rolled off to keep from squashing her. He pulled her close, holding her against his chest. She snuggled in like she was trying to absorb his body heat and he felt her shiver._

 _"You cold?," he asked. She nodded her head, so he rolled off the blankets and pulled them out from under her, noticing a small bloodstain on top of the comforter. Maids are going to have a good time with that, he thought with a wicked grin. He climbed back into bed with her and pulled her close again, this time with the sheets and blankets over them._

 _"Better?," he asked. River didn't answer, but she made a little mhhm noise and nuzzled into his chest. She was so quiet. He pegged her as the type of girl that would want to talk after. Instead she sounded more like she was about to fall asleep. "Hey," he said, trying to get her attention before she passed out._

 _"Huh?," she mumbled._

 _"Do I need to take you home before yer mom wakes up?," he asked. If River got caught, she was going to get grounded for sure. Or at the very least her momma would start keeping a closer eye on her and she wouldn't be able to sneak out and meet him._

 _"Nah, I will just tell her I got up early and left to go fishin' with Daryl," River said. She could feel Merle's chest shaking with a little silent laughter. River sighed, feeling contented. Even if her mom was going to catch her she was too tired and comfortable to care. There was nothing in the world that was going to make her get out of this bed right now short of a national disaster. Since Merle had woken her up when she was halfway to dreamland she decided she might as well ask him what she had started wondering as soon as they had finished having sex._

 _Just when he was sure she was about to pass out, River's head popped up off his chest and she tilted her body so she could look at him. She had the same half excited and half curious look on her face that she had been making when he let her look down his shorts._

 _"Yes?," he asked. She obviously wanted to ask him something. It was making him a little nervous that it might be some sort of question about his feelings for her. Do you love me? Are we going to get married? The horrible possibilities were endless. But that was not what she wanted to know at all. What she did ask made him laugh and then pull River to him so he could tickle her with kisses all over her face. When he looked back on it later, he knew that was the moment he fell crazy stupid in love with her._

 _"How long do we have to wait before we can do that again?"_

River tried to push the thoughts out of her head while she pulled the rest of Wren's comic books out from the cubby hole under the seat. But the more she tried not to think about it, the more she thought about it. She even tried rubbing the crook in her nose, but it was not doing the trick this time. Not at all.

Finally she got up and shut the door to the little camper, latching it securely. Then she knelt down on the floor and slid her hand down the front of her pants. Privacy had been a luxury even before the end of the world and she had become quick and efficient at taking care of her personal needs. Her orgasm was already coursing through her when someone started trying to yank the camper door open. Instead of pissing off, whoever was pulling on the door started banging on it instead. River pulled herself to her feet, ignoring the wobbly feeling in her legs.

She yanked the door open, her hand on the knife on her belt. Of course it was Daryl.

"What?," she asked him.

"Wren wants you," he told her, "and I think ya better get out of that hot ass camper 'cause yer face is red as hell." He paused chewing on the skin around his thumbnail. One of his more disgusting habits, particularly now that the world had ended and handsoap was not readily available. "What are you doing in there anyway?," he asked.

River grabbed the stack of comic books and climbed down the steps onto the concrete. His question made her want to giggle, since Daryl would be totally disgusted if she actually answered it. So she lied.

"What does it look like I was doing?," she asked in a teasing voice, as she nodded towards the books in her arms, "I was taking care of business."


	11. Chapter 11

Red River Blue

Chapter 11

Bringing her right leg forward, Harley planted her foot between her hands. She could feel the stretching burn down along the inside of her thigh on the opposite leg. She kept her breathing slow and even the way the other woman told her as she tried to copy her movements.

"What do you call this again?," Harley asked.

"It's yoga," Michonne told her, "we are doing a sun salutation." The woman brought her other foot forward and raised her butt up so she was standing but stretching down to touch her toes. Harley mimicked her movements, her curly ponytail falling forward into her face as she reached down to touch her toes.

"Is this how you get your ass to look like that?," she asked. Michonne almost started laughing. She felt her lips curl up into a smile. It had been so long since she smiled, the expression felt strange on her face.

"No, that's just called being black," she told the girl. Harley coughed out a laugh and almost fell forward, catching herself with her palms on the dirty cement floor. She decided she was going to go ahead and like Michonne. The woman had a funny off sense of humor. And she had listened quietly when Harley told her what happened between her and that man in the store the day before. Michonne didn't lecture her or treat her like a little girl. Harley did not tell her mother what happened because she was afraid the women would never let her out of her sight again if she found out some man tried to rape her while she was on that run. So she was grateful she had MIchonne to confide in.

They stood up and stretched out, reaching up with their arms and tilting back. Harley felt like she was getting the hang of this yoga stuff. It was just a series of stretches that were repeated in a certain order. She didn't get the immediate tension release like she did if she was running or playing field hockey, but all the stretching felt made her legs and arms feel good. It felt sort of like exersizing and relaxing at the same time.

Carol was behind them, trying to scrape something together for breakfast. She almost looked like she was thinking about joining them but was too embarrassed to ask. And then Harley's dad came in. The girl forced herself to take a long deep breath and blow it out through her mouth. Her mom had climbed into bed with her the night before and had a quiet whispering talk with her while Wren snored on the bunk below them. Telling Harley that she didn't have to like her father, but the outbursts needed to stop. They didn't have to be best friends, but they all had to find a way to coexist without making everyone else here miserable. Harley knew what that meant. She had made her mom embarrassed and ashamed of her. And for that and that alone, Harley was sorry. _I don't need you to fight my battles for me baby, I can take care of myself. I promise. Even when it comes to your dad._ Harley wasn't sure if she believed it, but she had promised her mother that she would try and rope her anger in.

So instead of giving her dad an angry look or saying something nasty to him, Harley continued on with her stretching and ignored him. Like he wasn't even there. She was enjoying herself and she wasn't going to let his offensive presence ruin her workout. Besides, Michonne was giving him the stink eye anyway, which was even funnier. When Harley peeked behind her, she noticed Carol was keeping a close eye on the man as well. She had been so wrapped up in her own emotions, Harley had not stopped to wonder how the rest of the people in this place felt about her dad. She saw it now. They didn't like him. At least these two women didn't. Knowing him they probably had a good reason. Harley wondered what her father had done to them. The possibilities were endless.

Merle woke up with a mission. After he rolled out of bed, he started looking around the prison for Michonne. He would rather avoid the woman, but living in such close quarters made that impossible. So he thought he better clear the air before that crazy ninja bitch decided to do what Carol had threatened and slit his throat while he slept. Or even worse, take her anger towards him out on one of his daughters. When Harley had gone on the run with that woman the day before, the had been afraid that Michonne might do something to hurt Harley. After all, she had killed the governor's daughter in front of him. He knew Penny was a walker, but it was still a little disconcerning. And it would not be the first time Merle's family had to pay the price for bad decisions he made.

Michonne was not hard to find. She was in the kitchen area, doing some sort of stretching exersizes. The problem was that Harley was with her. And Merle wasn't sure if he wanted to talk to the woman in front of his daughter. As far as he knew, his family didn't know much if anything about the events that had taken place shortly before they arrived. And he would rather keep it that way. But then again, it might sound better coming from him than if they heard it from someone else. He sat down on the closest bench.

Harley was ignoring him completely. Which Merle supposed was moderately better than being called an asshole and flipped off. He turned his attention towards Michonne. Telling her that he had no personal problems with her. When he tried to kill her, he had just been following orders.

"Like the gestapo?," Michonne asked. Harley snorted, but did not offer up her opinion on the matter.

Merle figured the woman's assesment was fair enough. He knew what he was doing was wrong. But he did it anyway. Just like all the other people he had killed since this whole thing started.

"Yup," he said, nodding in agreement. Michonne seem to have anything else to say. Which he hoped meant the subject was closed. But it was equally possible that she was still just biding her time and waiting to hurt him. So he said what he had really come to say.

"If you have a problem with me, you have a problem with me," he told the woman, "not my family." Harley and Michonne both snapped their heads in his direction. Michonne stared at him a moment and then gave a slight nod of her head. That was enough for him. She wasn't going to hurt his daughters. Harley was glancing back and forth between them with a confused look on her face. Before she decided to pipe up and start asking questions, Merle figured it was time for him to get the hell away from her. He slapped his hand down on his knee.

"Don't forget your cardio," he told the girls. Then he headed back down the cellblock to see if River was awake.

Harley watched him go. She felt full of mixed emotions. And confused about what had just happened. Her dad had been acting like he was afraid Michonne might try to hurt her. Which made no sense to Harley, since Michonne had been nothing but kind to her and her sister since they got here. She shook her head and went back to stretching her back. Her dad was so weird she didn't even know where to start.


	12. Chapter 12

Red River Blue

Chapter 12

Wren wrapped her arms around him and hugged him so tight Daryl felt like he could barely breathe. Then she turned on her heels and scampered back inside the prison like a little brown mouse. River came in next. Her hug was much more gentle, and it came with a soft squeeze on the hand and a warning to watch his back. Harley hovered around behind her mother, scuffing her boots on the pavement. Daryl wasn't sure what to expect from her, but she finally darted forward and wrapped him up in one of her rushed and rough embraces. No body real body contact and she whacked at his back like it was another man hugging him.

"Be careful Uncle Daryl," she whispered. She drifted back to her mother's side where the two women clung to each other for strength. When she was sweet like that, it was easy to see River in her despite the girl's obvious physical resemblance to his brother.

Hershel was standing next to Daryl, getting similar affections from his two daughters and even a hug from Glenn. Daryl still wasn't sure if it was a good idea to bring Hershel along. He was skilled in negotiations, but not so much in the running and fighting department. And that had been true even before he lost his leg. The man had become like a father to all of them. And after he lost his leg and survived, he became more than that. A symbol of hope. If anything happened to him it would be a devastating loss.

Carol brought the baby out so Rick could kiss her goodbye. Carl hesitated the way Harley had, then finally rushed in and hugged his father. On her way past him, Carol reached out and let her hand brush Daryl's arm. She didn't say anything. Maybe because there was nothing else to say. They all knew the risks and reality of the situation. He would either come back from this meeting or he wouldn't.

Merle got the gate for them, sliding it shut behind the small car. He gripped the fence with his one good hand and watched until the car was gone from sight. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach. Unlike everyone else in this place, he had enough personal experience with the governor to know what the man was capable of. And he didn't relish the thought of his brother being in the same room with that man.

In fact, Merle hated the whole idea of this meeting. It was a stupid waste of time and it was an uneccesary risk. Even if Rick and Phillip could come to some agreement, they could never trust the man to abide by what he promised. Most likely he was just going to toy with Rick for his own personal amusement. And that was best case senario. Worst case was that he was waiting to ambush them and then attack the prison once Daryl and the others were dead.

A soft hand came down to rest on his shoulder. Merle didn't have to look to know who it was. There were only two people in this hellhole that were willing to enter his personal space, and the smaller of the two was hiding inside the prison until her period was over.

"Daryl's a big boy," River said, "he can take care of himself."

Merle pulled his hand off the fence and wrapped it around her shoulders. Instead of pulling away, she leaned into him and slid her arm around his waist. He pulled her into his side and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

"How's Harley been with you?," she asked.

"Not as bad," he admitted, "you talk to her?" River nodded. She had not been sure it would make a difference, but she had a talk with the girl the night before. Laid the guilt on nice and thick like chocolate frosting. It was sort of a dirty trick, but when it came to Harley, sometimes River just had to work with what she had. And she knew if she guilted the girl about embarrassing her and making her feel like a bad mom, it might get Harley to knock off her sassy little attitude long enough to realize her father wasn't out to get them. At least that was what River hoped might happen.

"She likes that black woman," River said. When Merle snorted his displeasure, she added, "its good for her to have a friend." River kept a close eye on her girls and so far Michonne seemed to be a calming influence on her older daughter. Harley usually had a hard time making friends, so if she made one she liked, River was happy for her.

River reached into her back pocket. She had changed into a loose fitting tshirt. But her jeans were still damp so she was stuck wearing her shorts for now. From the pocket of her shorts, she pulled out a folded sheet of paper and handed it to Merle. He took it in his hand, memories of the long loving letters River had written him when he was in the service suddenly fresh in his mind. She had written him so often that the other men in his unit would tease him about it. Whenever there was a mail call, they would all shout for him. Where's Dixon his fucking mail is here! Open that shit up, maybe there's another half naked picture of his hot ass wife in there.

Merle took his arm off River's shoulders and unfolded the paper. It was a drawing. Wren was the only artist in the family, so he knew it was from her. She had gotten a lot better since the last time he had seen her scribblings too. This was good. It was a family portrait of all their faces. Everyone was smiling. Even Daryl was in the picture. Uncle Daryl couldn't be left out.

"Wren drew it for you but she didn't think it looked good enough so she tossed it out," River explained, "I took it from the trash pile."

"Nah, it looks just fine," Merle said, examining the picture and trying to smooth it out a little more, "Everyone looks good. Except for Darylina. He looks like a fuckin' mexican." River glanced at the picture again. She hadn't noticed it before but now that Merle pointed it out, she saw it. Daryl did look like a mexican. A dirty one. She leaned forward and braced her hands on her thighs, just letting the laughter roll over her.

"He's on the edge of the drawing," she giggled, "you could tear him off." Merle found himself smiling. River's laugh was infectious. She had always been that way. Able to make him laugh when other people couldn't.

"I think I like it with him on there," Merle said. In fact, he was going to hang this drawing up in his cell. Wren would like that. She was such a little doll. He bet it would make her real happy. "You got any tape?," he asked River. She nodded. That made him laugh too. What was he thinking? Of course she had tape. River was the biggest fucking packrat on earth. She probably had the entire contents of at least one Walmart shoved inside that tiny ass camper.

River wrapped her arm around his waist again and looked up at him. He could still see some hesitation and mistrust on her face, but it was tempered now with other feelings. She slipped her hand under his shirt and up his side, running her fingertips over the scar from the bullet that got him discharged from the service.

"How long has it been?," she asked. Her voice was calm and soft. Her question might have been unclear if she was asking someone else, but Merle understood what she wanted to know. She had asked him the same question many times over the years. How long had it been since he used. He found the question comforting. It meant River was thinking hard about taking him back.

"Had a little to drink not too long ago," he admittted. He had drank plenty of beer and even some liquor while he was living in woodbury. Sometimes he needed it to help him sleep.

"I'm not worried about a few beers," River said. She was worried about the hard stuff. Coke, meth, crushed up pills that he snorted up his nose in rails or melted in a spoon and shot into his veins. The stuff that made him go PTSD psycho and attack the furniture and her if she tried to make him stop. Merle nodded and thought about it. He used to be able to tell her the number of days. Or sometimes even months if it had been that long. But dates and times were not as exact in this new world.

"Since before I lost my hand," he finally said. Merle had been given some pain killers while the infection in his stump was healing up, but those had been given to him by a nurse and he had not asked for more than she felt he needed. Plus he had been in a shitload of pain. He didn't think that counted. Her finger circled the scar on his back as she stared up at him, looking him in the face to make sure he was telling her the truth.

River didn't say anything else. She just moved her hand down and wrapped her arm around Merle's waist, letting her head rest against his shoulder. That was a long time. Maybe the longest he had gone without using. Then again, it's not like his old dealer was still in business. Maybe he was only clean because he had no other choice. She felt like she still had some thinking to do before she was ready to fully trust him again.

TWD

The urge to go after Daryl and take the governor out while he felt he had the chance was burning hot inside Merle's belly. But there was a stronger urge that stayed his hand and kept him calm. Merle wanted to stay where his family was. If something went bad at the meeting, and the governor brought the fight to the prison, he was needed here. Before they came inside, he made River pull her little camper around and point it down towards the gate. In the next few days, he wanted to move it out and park it somewhere outside the fences in case they needed to make a run for it.

Merle finished taping Wren's picture to his wall when he heard some arguing coming from a few cells down. He positioned himself in the doorway of his cell, leaning against the bars to watch what was going on. Merle noticed several other people were doing the same. Carol was holding the baby in her arms and leaning against the wall and that little blonde girl was standing next to her. Michonne was in the doorway of her cell.

River was trying to drag a giant overstuffed bag of guns out of the cell she was sharing with the girls. And Harley did not look happy about it.

"It's taking up the whole damn room," River complained. She yanked at the heavy bag, lost her grip on it and fell back onto her ass on the floor. Harley seized the other end of the bag and started trying to drag it back into the room.

"This is our share," the girl insisted. River grunted and pulled herself back to her feet. She knew the deal she made with Rick was for a quarter of the guns he brought back, but that was because she had no idea of the sheer volume of guns he was bringing back. This was way too much. She had only wanted maybe one new gun each for them and some extra bullets. Not a full fucking arsenol shoved into their cell where she was tripping over it every five seconds.

"Just take a few guns for yerself and lets put the rest out in the other room," River said, trying to reason with the girl, "We don't need all that."

"Yes we do need them ya dummy!," Harley hollered back. Merle turned his face to the side, trying not to smile. Harley and River were mother and daughter, but they had been fighting like siblings since Harley was about five. It made for a rather amusing show at times.

"Can't you at least leave them outside the cell?," River asked the girl, ignoring the insult. She lunged forward and grasped the strap on the bag, trying again to pull the guns out of the cell. Harley let go of the strap and lounged against her bunk, watching her mother struggle with the heavy bag.

"As soon as you leave, I'm just going to drag them back in here," she informed her mother.

"God damn it Harley, I'm the mother!," River shouted, finally voicing her frustrations. It crossed her mind as the words came out of her mouth that anyone that felt the need to declare they were in charge was not really in charge at all.

"Shut the hell up both of you, we are trying to read," Wren yelled out from her bunk. She and Carl were curled up in there again with another stack of comic books. The boy looked rather amused with the family drama that was developing, while Wren just looked annoyed. If her mom and her sister wanted to fight and yell at each other, she wished they would go do it outside.

Wren glanced back up to see her dad standing outside the bars of the cell. He pointed at her first.

"Do not talk to yer mother like that," he said. Wren nodded her head and stuffed her nose quickly back into her comic book. Merle didn't know where she had gotten a little bitch attitude all of the sudden but having one rude ass daughter to deal with was enough. Next he turned his attention to Carl. Merle snapped his fingers at the boy like he was a dog.

"You!," he hollered. Carl's eyes got wider and he sat up straight, setting his comic book in his lap. "Get the hell out of my daughter's bed!," Merle told the boy, "Right fuckin' now!" Carl leaped up and scuttled out of the room, heading down the corridor towards the outside door. "Do not let me catch you in there again," Merle yelled after him, "if y'all want to read together, ya can do it at the goddamn table."

Wren's eyes were as big as saucers, but she didn't say one word. Harley had her nose wrinkled up, trying to decide between laughing at her sister and scowling at her father. At least that fucking kid was gone, he stunk like dirty feet and unwashed socks. She didn't know why Wren was letting some dirty boy lay in her bed in the first place.

Merle leaned down and grabbed the strap of the bag from River. She let go and backed away, one hand resting lightly on the bars in front of the cell. Her other hand was on her hip and her long pontail was falling forward over her shoulder. She looked ready to step in if she felt things were getting out of control, but for now she was not going to interfere. Merle gestured at Harely next, motioning for her to come grab the other end of the bag. She didn't move.

"Comeon and grab the other end of this bag," he told her. Not yelling this time like he had at Wren. Merle wasn't a total idiot. Harley narrowed her icy eyes at him.

"Where are you taking it?," she asked. Her arms were crossed under her breasts now and she was scowling at him. But she wasn't cussing or throwing shit at his head yet, so things were still good.

"To my room, you can keep 'em in there," Merle told the girl. Harley stared at her father for another moment before shuffling forward and grabbing the bag like she had been told. River watched them as they dragged the heavy bag down the hall, trying not to laugh at the identical scowls on their faces.


	13. Chapter 13

Red River Blue

Chapter 13

The sound of Daryl's motorcycle echoed into the prison from outside the fences. Everyone seemed to have made an unspoken decision to listen for the noise, since the sound of it immediately stopped them each from whatever tasks they had been working on and sent them scurrying outside like so many hopeful rats. Daryl was good at keeping an even expression on his face. But River knew him well enough that before Carl even had the gates open to let him in, she could already tell the news they were about to hear was not going to be good.

She still had a decision to make. One that she had been hoping against all hope to avoid making. She just kept telling herself that Rick's meeting with the governor was going to go well. Then they could stay here. But clearly whatever had transpired between the two leaders had not been the peace treaty everyone including her was hoping for. Now she felt like she was faced with an impossible decision. To stay and fight. Risking her daughter's lives in the process. Or leave and abandon the people that she was already starting to think of as family in the short time she had known them.

The thought of something happening to Carol or the kids here made River sick to her stomach. And Daryl. He was thick as theives with these people. She had picked up on that the first day. If River left the prison with her girls, there was a chance he might not go with them. Daryl was family. She loved him like the brother she never had. Losing him after finding him again was so terrible she didn't even want to think about it.

Rick held off the explanation of what happened, telling everyone he wanted to talk to them inside. River grasped her older daughter's hand, wishing she had spoken more with the girl about her opinion on the situation at hand before it came to this. Harley was the survivor. Her intuition had gotten them this far. When the outbreak started, River had been ready to pack up the girls and head for the shelter inside Atlanta that was being mentioned on the radio. It had been Harley's idea to stay and wait out the beginning of the outbreak at home. Harley didn't trust the voice on the radio. She was the reason the three of them were still alive today.

Inside the prison, everyone gathered around. Waiting to hear what Rick was going to say. It was a strange feeling for River, being impatient to hear something she knew she didn't really want to hear. She wrapped one arm around Harley's slim waist and the other was draped around Wren's shoulders. Holding both of her girls close.

Rick started by saying he had met with the governor. Before he could continue Merle interrupted him.

"Just you and him alone?," he asked. Rick nodded and Merle shook his head, clicking his tounge. He opened his mouth to speak again, but Harley cut him off.

"You should have killed him while you had the chance," she said. There was no malice or reprimand in her voice. Harley said it like she was repeating a simple fact. Just a touch of disappointment was showing on her face. Merle turned towards his daughter, feeling surprised and almost a little proud in an odd way. She had taken the words right out of his mouth. He dipped his head slightly to show the girl that he agreed with her. Then he backed away from Rick and leaned against the bars next to his family, one foot propped up on the wall behind him. He was dangerously close to Harley, and River noticed for once the girl did not flinch or shrink away from him.

Once Rick was sure no one else was going to speak up, he continued on with the speech that he had practiced in his mind on the drive back from his meeting. He told them the governor wanted them dead. Wanted the prison. He told them they were going to war. He lied. Because he wanted them to be afraid. So afraid that they woule be willing to accept the horrible thing he was going to have to do in order to keep them safe.

Once Rick was done talking, River noticed a shift in the tension around her. People stopped looking at Rick and turned their gaze on her. Even Daryl and Merle were looking at her. Waiting to see what she was going to do. She knew it then. It was time to pick a side. Make the choice she hoped she wouldn't be forced into making.

Her eyes flashed around, not settling on any one face at first. She focused on Carol's face, then Daryl, and finally she flicked her eyes towards Merle, hoping he was going to give her some idea of what he thought they ought to do. So far he had not said much about it. She guessed that like her, he felt trapped in a situation that he wasn't sure how to get out of. Finally she felt Harley's hand on her shoulder. Giving her a gentle squeeze. She stared up into her daughter's steely blue eyes.

Harley's jaw was locked and she had a look of stubborn determination on her face. River felt one corner of her mouth twitch up. Just a whisper twitch of a smile. That was when she knew. Not only were they going to fight. They were going to win. Harley nodded her head, aknowledging the silent communication that had just passed between them. River hugged her younger daughter closer, holding her tight like she could protect her from all that was coming. Then she turned her head and looked at Rick.

"We're in," she told him. He nodded his head before walking away from the group and heading outside. River found his behavior strange. They just decided to go to war. She felt like they should start planning. Rick was a good liar, but she had seen it written all over his face just before he fled the room. There was something he wasn't telling them.

Wren's grip on her mother tightened, and once Rick was gone from the room she leaned in and whispered softly, "Momma, I'm scared." River hugged the girl to her. She smoothed her hands over the little hairs that had escaped from Wren's braided pigtails.

"Never goin' to let anything happen to you baby," she whispered back to the girl. She knew her words must not have sufficed the girl, since Wren hugged her mama one more time before she broke off the embrace to rush over and hug Merle around his waist, lying her head against his chest. He took her affections the same was he always did, stiff and awkward at first, then relaxing into her and pulling her close. He had not heard what River whispered to the girl, but he patted her head and told her the same thing.

"Ain't gone let nothin' happen to you," he said, dipping his head down and speaking quietly into her ear. She looked up at him with so much love and trust in her eyes. More than he felt he deserved when he had just made a promise to her that he wasn't sure he was going to be able to keep.

With Rick gone from the room, the other members of the group seemed to relax a little. And it didn't take much longer before they felt comfortable enough to start stating their opinions. Carol crossed the small space, taking the spot between River and Daryl that Wren had vacated. Her hands hung loosely at her sides. She felt the brush of Daryl's knuckles first. Then the rough pads of his fingers, slipping around her hand and giving it a tender squeeze. His hand was gone as quickly as it had come, not even giving her a chance to squeeze back.

Hershel spoke up first. His opinion had been made clear many times already. So he kept it short and sweet. He wanted to leave. Find another place. The prison was secure. But he didn't think it was worth their lives. Carol agreed with him. Her voice was steady when she spoke and she could feel Daryl's eyes on her.

Merle and Michonne wanted to attack the governor before he attacked them. Take the fight to him. Give him a taste of his own medicine. Glenn and Maggie were more neutral. Glenn wanted to leave, but he was afraid of what might happen to them out on the road. They had made it through the winter, but that was when Hershel had one good leg and Judith was still nestled safe inside Lori's stomach.

Beth thought they should stay inside the prison and wait for the governor to come for them. Here they had the home turf advantage. And thick walls to hide behind. But she didn't speak up because she didn't feel she had the right. No one cared what a little girl like her thought. She wished she could be more like Merle's daughter. Not only was that girl not afraid to speak her mind. When she did, all the grown ups listened to her. Beth had been wary of the new girl at first, but now she thought she might like to get to know her better.

Carl and Daryl listened silently. Once people were done speaking, Daryl reached out once more. He didn't even grasp her whole hand this time. Just gripped her tiny pinky finger between his thumb and forefinger and gave it a gentle tug before he turned and headed out to talk to Rick.

 **** I am not going to retell things that happened on the show unless I am adding or changing something. So Rick had about the same talks with Daryl and Hershel about turning over Michonne to the governor that he did on the show. Thanks to everyone that took the time to leave a review. ****


	14. Chapter 14

Red River Blue

Chapter 14

Merle lay in his bunk, thinking about the conversation he had with that sleezy prick Rick. Rick the prick, it had a nice ring to it. That asshole still liked to pretend he was a cop. But he was no different from the governor. It made Merle sick, what that so-called cop asked him to do. Not only because the plan was stupid and was probably going to get them all killed. Any fool with half a brain could see Phillip Blake was just trying to draw out their best fighters so he could pick them off. But because turning Michonne over to the governor was the worst thing Merle had ever been asked to do. Worse than anything he had seen during his two tours overseas. And he had seen a lot of horrible shit. Things that still woke him up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night.

It was the second tour that got to him. Riding in those caravans. The enemy would send little children running up with bombs strapped to their chests. The men in his unit would throw out handfuls of candy so the children would run off in the other direction and blow up away from the armoured trucks and jeeps. In his dreams, each one of them had his daughter's face.

When he came back, even loud noises made him jump. Merle had taken to the bottle to try and sleep at night. When that stopped working, he started in on the drugs. And all that had done for him was destroy his family. River stuck with him longer than any other woman in her right mind would have. All the horrible things he did to her, and she just kept on loving him. But in the end he had drove even her away.

One morning he woke up to a house that looked like a tornado had gone off inside of it. There were holes in the walls and his knuckles were bruised. All Harley's little girl things were gone. And most of River's clothes. Merle couldn't even remember what happened. Daryl had to tell him what he had done. _You smacked Harley man, and knocked River around so bad she can't see out of one eye. She said she ain't comin' back. And don't ask me where she went Merle, 'cause I ain't gone tell ya._ He could still feel it now. As fresh as if it happened just that moring instead of more than ten years ago. The shame he felt when he realized that he got so out of control that River had to call Daryl to come and get her. The shame of becoming what he swore on his life he would never become.

River still took him back after that. Given him another chance. She had gotten pregnant with Wren and he could remember how happy she was. Cooking him and little Harley eggs for breakfast even though the smell of them was making her sick. Then she had caught him cheating on her. He had gone out and slept with some skanky whore. At the time he had justified it by telling himself he was sparing his pregnant wife by not burdening her with his sexual needs. That or some similar load of bullshit. That slut had given him the clap and he gave it to River. She had gone to her baby doctor, thinking whatever was going on with her was pregnancy related.

The doctor told her she had an STD. That fucking bastard of a doctor lectured River about how she shouldn't be sleeping around while she was pregnant. Made her feel like a no good whore. That was pretty much the end of that. She had kicked Merle's ass out and refused to let him come back. He went out and got himself pinched up after that. Fighting in a bar. When the cops arrested him they found the drugs he had on him. While River was in the hospital giving birth to his daugter, Merle was sitting in a jail cell. Pretty much the same as the one he was sitting in now. He might find it ironic if it wasn't so sad and pitiful.

From his bunk, Merle heard a soft shuffle step pass by, accompanied by the sound of someone humming. He almost ignored it, thinking it was Carol or the little blonde girl walking Rick's brat around. But then he recognized the tune. It was not a song either of those women would know. Because it was River's song. The one she made up to sing to Harley when she was a baby.

During his first tour, River sent him a care package. All the things he liked were inside. Beef jerky and chocolate chip oatmeal cookies and his brand of deodorant. But no letter. Just a picture of River holding Harley. They were looking at each other's faces and smiling. Harley had been such a cute little stinker too. All gummy smiles and wild curly hair that was so blonde it was almost white. On the back of the picture River wrote the words to the song.

 _He's coming home soon_

 _This tours almost through_

 _I promise he'll try to spend more time with you_

 _You say Daddy come home_

 _You'll just have to wait_

 _I hope when he gets here that it won't be too late_

He carried that picture in his pocket until it fell apart and the words faded away to nothing. No girl had ever written him a poem before. And he had never gotten another one since. Not even from River. He always liked that the poem was a little sad. It wasn't all love and sunshine and bullshit butterflies, it was honest. Not that he didn't want his girls to be happy, but it made him feel good to know they were missing him.

Merle swung his legs down from his bunk and shifted his weight so he could see out the crack between the sheet had had hung up and the cement wall. River had the baby propped up so her little bald head was cuddled into the crook of her neck. As she sang she rubbed the child's back. She hummed the parts of the song she couldn't remember the words to, and sang the rest in a soft soothing voice. River never had much of a singing voice, but it always calmed the girls and put them to sleep when they were fussy. The same as it was doing now for little Judith.

He knew he ought to stay on his bunk. The last thing he needed around this place was more trouble. But the soft way River was humming was like a siren song. Merle was on his feet heading out of his cell before he had a chance to think things through. River heard his heavy tread behind her and turned, stopping her song. He rubbed his hand softly up her back, then down again, resting it on her hip.

"Don't stop," he said. River bit at her bottom lip and looked down, the color rising in her cheeks. Her eyes flicked back up to his. This was so embarrassing. She hated singing in front of people. Her voice was bad and she didn't even remember all the words to the song. She shook her head.

Merle's hand slid around her hip, his thumb ghosting against the sliver of exposed skin where her tank top had ridden up. He rested it in the center of her lower back and pulled her closer, like they were dancing with the baby snuggled in between them. She closed her eyes when the rough skin of his cheek touched hers. And in that moment, she was back in her mom's crummy little trailer and he was home on leave visiting her. The baby in her arms was Harley. They swayed together a moment to music that no one else could hear. Then she said the exact same thing she had said to him that night all those years ago.

"Let me put her down before you take me to bed."

River turned and headed back into Beth's room, where the crib was set up. She lowered the sleeping baby down carefully and covered her with a light blanket. River kissed the tips of her fingers and pressed the kiss to the little girl's round baby soft cheek. Then she stood up and crept quietly back out of the cell.

Merle was waiting in the doorway of his own cell. Leaning against the bars and looking uneasy, like he wasn't sure if she was going to come back. Like she might have come to her senses while she was putting the baby to bed. She glided towards him, not stopping until her body was pressed against his. When he dipped his head down to kiss her she pulled back, pressing the tip of her finger to his lips to stop him.

"Don't get me pregnant," she whispered. She didn't want any more kids. And she certainly didn't want to be pregnant with one in the middle of the apocolypse. He nodded his head and wrapped his good arm around her waist, pulling her into his cell.

Aside from him being short one right hand, they knew each other's bodies well. It had been a long time, but he still knew how she liked to be kissed. With a lot of tounge and his hand fisted into her hair. And she remembered what he liked. For her to wrap her arms around his neck while he buried his face in her clevage. He pulled back and started fighting with the straps that held his arm piece on. By the time he got the damn thing off, River was naked and lying on his bunk, her knees slightly bent and her arms stretched out above her head. She let her one knee drop, her legs falling open to reveal the delicate folds of flesh between them that were already glistening with moisture.

"Fuckin' hell," Merle swore, trying to yank his shirt and pants off at the same time and doing a piss poor job of it since he only had one good hand. River leaned up and helped him with his belt before moving down to unlace his boots, wondering while she did it why in the hell a one handed man was wearing a belt and lace up boots in the first place. Merle managed to get his own shirt off. But that time River had a firm grip on his erection, sliding her hand up and down his hard length. She didn't take it into her mouth, instead she leaned forward and pressed a gentle teasing kiss to the tip of it, smiling up at him when she pulled away.

That was about the limit of teasing that he could take. Merle pounced on her, making her squeal before she could clamp her hand over her own mouth. He nestled himself between her legs, wanting his mouth on every part of her at once. She had great tits. They were always nice but they got a lot bigger after she had Harley and never shrunk back. They were full and soft and tasted like heaven in his mouth. He licked and sucked on her nipples until he felt her hips rocking under the weight of his body. Then she was grabbing at him, pulling him up so their hips and mouths were lined up.

"Kiss me," she said. Not like a demand. River never demanded anything during sex. She only begged. _Please kiss me._ Her hand snaked between them, lining up the head of his throbbing erection with her slick opening. He entered her with his tounge and his dick at the same time. She was kissing him back, her hand on the back of his neck. And then she was arching her back, moaning as he pushed his full length inside her. He had to hold still for a moment, pressing his weight down on her hips to keep her from bucking up into him.

"Shhhh," he told her. "You are going to have this whole place up and thinking theres a pack of fuckin' biters in here if you keep that up," he warned. The noises she was making were fucking hot, but she was being way too loud. If she woke the girls up and they came tromping in here, sexy time was going to be over before it got started.

"Sorry," she hissed, "ohmygod it feels so good I can't help it. Sorry." She couldn't even remember the last time she had been laid proper. Or since she had even had sex at all. It had been years. More than she wanted to admit. She had her job and her girls to keep her busy. No time to date even if she found someone she liked, which she never did.

'Put yer hand over yer mouth," he whispered. River nodded and did as she was told, putting the knuckle of her thumb in her mouth and biting at it to keep from crying out. Merle buried his face into her neck and lifted his weight up onto his elbows. Then he started moving. Slow at first, but then faster once he caught the rhythm in her hips. He didn't want to stop, so he tried thinking about anything besides what he was doing and the tight grip of her insides wrapped around him and how she got tighter and wetter every time she pumped her hips up into him. Once he felt her shudder around him he came undone. A few more hard pumps and he was yanking out of her to spill himself between her ass cheeks.

He flopped down on the small mattress next to her and she rolled into him, clamping her legs around his thigh and riding out the rest of her orgasm. She nuzzled into him after that, resting her head on his chest and wiggling around until she found the spot she liked. Her sweet spot. Merle reached up, nabbing the blanket that was hanging off the top bunk and pulling it down to cover them both before the heat from their lovemaking left their bodies.

"Love you baby," he told her, daring to say the words that had been unspoken between them for so long. A pregnant pause hung in the air as he waited to see if she was going to say it back. For a moment, he thought she was going to leave him hanging. But then she tilted her head back to kiss the line of his jaw.

"I love you too," she said in a sleepy soft contented voice, "and I want a new ring. I flushed my other one down the toilet."

"I thought you through it out the car window while ya were drivin'?," he asked.

"That was the first one," she reminded him, "you bought me that other one once I got pregnant with Wrennie. That's the one I flushed." She felt his chest move with the soft shudder of his silent laughter. He kissed the top of her head.

"Whatever you want," he promised, "I'll get it for ya." That made River giggle. She threw one leg over Merle's hips and fell asleep trying to think of something she wanted that she didn't already have.

 **** This chapter contained lyrics from the song letter to my daughters, by Uncle Kracker. I'm terrible at writing songs and poems so I have to beg, borrow, or steal. I didn't quote the song exactly but it was close enough I thought I should give credit. Thanks to anyone that took the time to leave a review. ****


	15. Chapter 15

Red River Blue

Chapter 15

River's body was warm beside him. Curled around him. There wasn't much room on the narrow bunk that was made to hold only one person comfortably. But he didn't feel crowded. Quite the opposite, Merle felt like she was never close enough to him unless he was inside her. The intense need to possess her was a constant low burn deep in his groin. All the years he had known her, he kept waiting for the feeling to pass. To fall out of love with her. He waited the horrible burning ache of not being able to have her to go away. Drugs would dull it. Make him forget. But it never really went away.

She was far from being the only woman he had ever had sex with, but River was the only woman he had ever actually slept in the same bed with. He had passed out drunk a few times in some random whore's bed, but once he woke from his stupor he had not been able to get out of there fast enough. Those women smelled like cheap wine and cigarettes. They had bad breath and crispy hair that was sticky with hairspray. But sometimes they dulled the ache inside him for a while. He used them to try and prove to himself that he didn't need River. Didn't need her and didn't want her. He used them to push her away. That had been just one of his many mistakes.

Merle was lying flat on his back and River was curled into the side of him. One leg and one slim arm thrown across his body, like she was using him as a giant body pillow. She was thinner than the last time he had been with her, and he felt a slight pang of guilt. He ought to be taking better care of her. And the girls. He should have tried harded to find them when the shit when down instead of just asssuming they didn't make it. In fact, he should have been there taking care of them before the end of the world. He never should have let things between them get so bad. He should have been a better husband. A better father. The kind of man they deserved.

God or fate or whoever was out there was giving him a second chance. And Merle did not intend to let this one slip away. He thought about what Rick had asked him to do. Turn Michonne over to the governor. It made him sick and he reached his hand down under the covers, grasping River's thigh and gently pulling her closer. She sighed but didn't wake, her hips rocking into him. He could feel the wet heat of her against his hip and for a moment, Merle was ready to roll on his side and plunge into her. Hold her close and kiss her soft lips until he forgot everything about the governor and Rick and every other asshole in this place.

But that was not what Merle did. Instead of turning towards River, he slid slowly out from under her embrace. He tucked the blankets in around her to keep her warm and brushed a stray hair away from her face. Merle smiled down at her while he pulled on his clothes and tucked a gun into his belt. She looked so small there on the bunk by herself. Small and peaceful. His anchor in the storm that he created wherever he went. There was nothing in the world he wouldn't do to keep her safe.

TWD

Harley stomped off outside. She looked inside the trailer first, assuming that was where he mother had gone. The girl had been in the kitchen area doing morning yoga with Michonne when her dad came in. He asked Michonne to help him clear out some walkers. When Harley offered to come and help, he told her that her mom wanted her for something. It wasn't until she was poking inside the camper and coming up empty that she realized he never said where he mom was.

Well, Harley thought, there's only so many places she could be. The girl headed back inside and checked their cell. Not only was her mom not inside, her bed looked like it had not been slept in. She had not noticed that when she got up. Harley was starting to get a little concerned. She didn't think her dad would have done anything to her mother, but she didn't totally trust him either. He had a shifty look on his face when he left the kitchen area with Michonne.

Harley thought about where else her mother might be, and quickly decided to check her dad's cell just in case. She thought maybe her mom was in there cleaning up or something. Harley pulled the sheet back and rolled her eyes at what she saw. Her mom was in there, but she wasn't cleaning. She was sleeping on the bunk and it looked like she wasn't wearing much under the blankets either. That meant she had probably slept the night in there, with her dad. Harley sighed. There was nothing to be done about it now.

"MOM!," she hollered, lifting up one foot and using it to jostle the sleeping woman, "what do you want?"

River smacked Harley's dirty boot away from her. Then she rubbed at her eyes and tried to wake herself up. She had been sleeping so soundly that for a moment, she woke up confused as to where she was. The blanket fell down, revealing her naked breasts, and she quickly snatched it back up and clutched it to her chest. Getting caught by Harley always River feel a bit like getting caught by her mother. She felt like she was always disappointing her daughter.

"Somethin' wrong," River asked, "Is Wren alright?" Harley nodded.

"What do you want?," she asked again. River scrubbed at her face, trying to clear her head. She didn't want anything that she knew of.

"Huh?," she finally huffed.

"Dad said you wanted my help with something," Harley said. She was starting to get irritated now. Her dad had obviously sent her off on some sort of fools errand to keep her from going with him and Michonne. Treating her like some kind of little baby. Like she was fucking Wren or something. He didn't think she could handle herself. Who did that jerk think had been keeping her mom and Wren safe all this time. She had probably killed more walkers than him. And she had been going out of her way to be nice to that asshole too. Look at what she got for her efforts. Now that douche had fucked her mom and he was treating her like a little scare baby. When he got back she was going to give him a piece of her mind this time and she didn't care what her mom thought about it.

"Where's your dad?," River asked. She stood up, wrapping the blanket around her like a towel.

"You ought to know," Harley sassed, "Since yer the one letting him fuck you." The girl saw her mother's mouth drop open. But she wasn't done yet. She wasn't sure she would have been able to stop herself if she wanted to. Harley could feel her anger taking over, loosening up her tounge and making her say things she knew she would regret later.

"You promised me mom! After the last time you promised it wouldn't happen again!" Harley's eyes filled up with angry tears that she ground away with the back of her fist.

The flood of terrible memories was washing over her. The day before basketball tryouts. She had gone to bed early and woken up hours later to a horrible racket in their small apartment. Her mother's face was gushing blood as she held a towel to it to try and stop the flow. She had not seen her dad in almost a year. But suddenly there he was in their living room. He was screaming like a wild animal, smashing everything in their apartment. Harley grabbed her mom and the phone and dragged her towards Wren's bedroom. She locked the door behind them and threw the dresser in front of it, not caring if it broke or made a hole in the wall. Wren was so little she had still been sleeping in a pink teddy bear toddler bed that she was really too big for with a blankie clutched to her chest. She was fleece footie pajamas because she always kicked her blankets off while she slept. Harley remembered them, one foot had a hole in it and her big toe was sticking out.

Through the wet towel Harley's mom told her, call Uncle Daryl. Her voice sounded all muffled and gurlgy. Harley remembered the feeling of the phone in her hand, her fingers sliding over the raised pattern of buttons. She looked at the towel her mom was holding to her face. It was soaked in blood. And she let her fingers punch the buttons. Not dialing her Uncle's number, but dialing 911 instead. The police had come. It took three of them to cuff her dad and haul him down to the squad car. That was the last time she saw him until years later.

The next day Harley had still shown up for tryouts, walking two miles by herself and then taking the city bus down to the middle school because her mom couldn't drive her. She was the youngest girl to make the team.

River approached her daughter slowly, reaching her hand out. Harley was crying. River couldn't remember the last time she had seen the girl cry. Not since she was a little girl. River expected the girl to yank away, but instead Harley folded into her mother's arms.

"It's alright," River soothed, "It's alright honey, everything is going to be alright this time. I promise." She had struggled with so much guilt over the years. Feeling like a bad mother for allowing her daughter to be exposed to something that horrible. More than anything she wished she could take her daughter's pain away and feel it for her.

"Hey!," Daryl said, flinging the sheet back from in front of the cell, "Y'all seen Merle?" Harley turned her back to him and wiped her eyes again. She sucked in a deep breath and got her emotions under control.

"He went down to clear the tombs with Michonne," Harley told her Uncle. From the look on Daryl's face, River could tell right away that something was wrong.

"What is it?," she asked. Daryl took in River's disheveled appearance. Her hair was wild and sticking up in the back and she was naked under the blanket she had wrapped around her. There was a purple love bite on the left side of her neck. She was also in Merle's cell, and the bed next to her looked rumpled from more than sleeping. Daryl allowed himself one second to be happy for his brother, then he pointed at River.

"Ya better get dressed right now, I think we got a problem."


	16. Chapter 16

Red River Blue

Chapter 16

He expected her to run. Fight him. He wasn't even watching her that close. Stupid woman. Couldn't she see he was trying to give her a chance to get away? It would be easy to go back to the prison and say she got away from him. Merle knew that story would not be questioned. But the problem was she wouldn't fucking leave.

Michonne was smarter than she looked. She knew his heart wasn't in this. He didn't want to do it. She kept trying to talk to him. About his brother. His family. Asking why he was doing Rick's dirty work for him. Why he had killed people for the governor. And the worst part was, he didn't have an answer for her. He knew this was a terrible idea. Not only because it was a sickening and horrible thing to do, but also because he knew it wouldn't help to keep anyone safe. Deep down he knew the governor wouldn't stop until they were all dead. But he was doing it anyway. He supposed maybe he was doing it because Rick had asked him to do it. Merle felt like he needed to earn his place in the group. Even if it wasn't the place he wanted.

"We could go back," she said. Her voice was eerily calm. Not the voice of a woman that knew she was being driven to a horrible and painful death. "We could just go back." Merle slowed the car to a stop and looked at her. "Both of us," she added.

He sat a moment, his many conflicting thoughts and emotions swirling in his mind like a tornado. Making him wish for nothing more in the world than a shot of whiskey and a cold beer in his hand. He gripped the steering wheel with his one good hand, his foot bearing down on the brake. Waiting and praying for the fog in his mind to clear. He didn't need a drink. One thought slowly lifted from the turmoil. Becoming clear in his mind, like he was looking at his own reflection in a still pool of water. _If he went to this meeting, the governor might kill him._ He knew that his death was a distinct possibility. Merle couldn't protect his family if he was dead.

Before he could change his mind he reached over and cut the phone wire that was binding Michonne's hand together. Her sword was stuck down between his seat and the car door. He pulled it out and handed it to her. Then he cranked the wheel hard to the left. Turning the car around. Heading back to the prison. He watched Michonne out of the corner of his eye, still not sure if he trusted her not to try and jump him now that she had her weapon back. But Michonne was leaning back in the seat, her body completely relaxed. She was smiling at him.

TWD

Daryl told Rick not to let anyone follow him. But once he got outside, he saw a car pulling through the outer gates where they were still hanging open. The sun was reflecting off the windshield, making it hard for him to see who was inside. He put a hand up, to shade his eyes from the glaring Georgia sun. The car was moving slowly, but Daryl knew when it rounded the corner, he would get a brief glimpse of who was driving. It was Merle. Daryl felt an instant of relief, quickly followed by a horrible sinking feeling. If Merle was back, that meant Michonne was already gone. They were too late to stop him.

Daryl darted back, pounding on the closed door so Rick would open it back up for him. After what felt like hours, but was only a few seconds, the door pushed open from inside.

"He's already back," Daryl hissed. Rick's eyes got a little wider before they returned to their normal size. They didn't say anything else, instead the two men just started back the way they had come. Through the rabbit warren of cement tunnels that would lead them up and out.

Carl pulled the gate open for them and Merle guided the car through the narrow opening. He wasn't sure what to expect. He scanned the faces of the people that were pouring out of the doorway one by one. River looked relieved. She did not look angry. That was enough for him. Merle slammed the car into park and climbed out. By the time he was slamming the car door shut behind him, she was already wrapping her arms around him. Holding him close before she reached up to pluck a bit of a leaf off the front of his shirt.

"What happened?" Merle turned his attention towards the voice. It was the old man that was speaking. Hershel. He looked more concerned than upset. Another good sign. Before he or Michonne could respond, Harley approached him. Now she looked angry. Real fucking pissed off. When she was angry like this, it was always easy for Merle to see himself in her. She pointed the knife she was holding at him. Her blue eyes were cold and icy, but red around the rims like she had been crying. That concerned Merle more than the knife she was holding. Harley never cried.

"What did you do?," Harley hissed. River moved her body. Just a slight shift, but she placed herself in between him and his angry knife wielding daughter.

"We just went to do some recon," Michonne called over to the girl from the other side of the car.

She was lying. Merle narrowed his eyes at the woman, trying to figure out why she would be willing to lie for him. "Rick was supposed to meet with the governor again today. They looked like they were planning to ambush him," Michonne added.

"Yeah," Merle chimed in, "we better get ready in case he's coming here next." He decided quickly that if Michonne wanted to cover for him, he wasn't going to look that gift horse in the mouth.

Harley's angry face was replaced with a confused look. She lowered her knife, hesistating a moment before she stuffed it back in the sheath on her hip. Daryl said her dad had taken Michonne. That he was going to give her over to the governor. But maybe he was wrong. Michonne didn't look like she was being kidnapped. In fact she was smiling at her dad, like they were friends now or something.

River felt Merle edging around her. Moving closer to Harley. River's body tensed up, the soft hair on her arms standing on end. This was like watching two adult cats get introduced. At any moment a low growl might roll out of one or the other. That sound would be followed by loud hissing howl as they locked their claws into each other and sent tufts of fur flying. Harley's body was tense, but she held her ground as Merle moved towards her. He lifted his hand up, letting her see it, like he was approaching an injured animal.

"S'alright," he told the girl, almost whispering under his breath right before his hand came to rest gently on her shoulder. River sucked her breath in. She had to fight the urge to butt in and push them away from each other. The last time Harley had let her father touch her she had been at least two feet shorter. Her hair had been in two curly pigtails that looked like cheerleaders pom poms stuck to the sides of her head.

Merle called asking to see the girls and River let him meet them all at a public park. Wren played in the big sandbox while he pushed Harley on a swing. He pushed her so high River was afraid the little girl might fall backwards out of the swing and land on the hard packed dirt underneath, but Harley had loved every minute of it. After she had wrapped her little arms around Merle and called him daddy. She asked if he would bring her again the next weekend.

He promised her he would. But then the next weekend came and Merle never showed up. Harley sat out on that stoop for hours, her basketball in her lap and her little scuffed play shoes on her feet. River tried to coax her daughter back inside but she refused to come in. Not even for vanilla ice cream with chopped up bananas and chocolate syrup on top.

River finally picked up her phone and paged Merle, punching in her number and adding 911 to the end of it. Something she never did unless there was a real emergency. When he called back, River could hear the slur in his words. He was drunk. And she could hear some woman laughing in the background. Laughing and asking him who he was calling. Telling him to come back to bed. River slammed the phone down, angry at herself because she was crying. And even madder at herself for believing he might actually show up. After that River went outside and did something that she still regretted to this very day. She marched out there and told her ten year old daughter the truth. _You might as well come in. He's not coming over because he would rather be drunk than be with us._

Harley was ten and Wren was five and River felt like a tired bitter old woman already at the age of twenty five. Later that night, once her girls were in bed, she laid down on the couch where she slept so each of her girls could have their own bedrooms and cried herself to sleep. Cried because Harley didn't cry. Because the girl simply nodded her head and took it, already hardened by life before she was even a woman.

River felt like she was watching things happen in slow motion. Harley glanced at Merle's outstretched hand, looking at it like it was a snake that might bite her. When he set it lightly on her shoulder, she tensed, but didn't run. That was Harley. She never ran from anything. River was more worried that the girl might take a swing at him. And she hit hard. When that foolish boy at school decided he was going to grope her ass in the lunchline, Harley had put him in the hospital with a broken eye socket. She got suspended for three days but no one ever touched her again.

Harley clenched her fist up, but she didn't swing. Her nails were digging into her palm. Then she heard Wren behind her. Harley could tell who is was by the sound her sister made when she walked. She never picked her feet up all the way and they shuffled against the pavement. She felt the girl's small hands on her back and then she was being shoved hard. The toe of her boot scuffed against the ground, throwing her slightly off balance as she fell into her father.

Merle caught his daughter as she bumped into his chest, only keeping her upright at first, but then his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a rough embrace. Harley stayed stiff a first, allowing him to hug her, but not hugging him back. It felt good in a way she would be hard pressed to explain. He smelled the same as she remembered. Like campfire smoke and the woods after a rainstorm. He felt a lot shorter than she remembered and the stubble on his face was rough against her cheek. She didn't even realize she was hugging him back until she felt her palms flat against the hard muscles of his back. Then she felt Wren's hands on her again. This time they were fisting into her shirt and yanking her backwards.

"That's enough," the younger girl complained, "You're hogging him!" Harley allowed her sister to pull her back so she could rush in and smother the man with her affections. Wren reminded her of an eager puppy. Harley was having a hard time keeping a straight face and not laughing at her. Her father was even patting Wren on the head. Like a dog. Harley felt the corners of her mouth betraying her as they started to twist up into a smile.

TWD

Daryl and Rick hurried through the maze of tunnels. The cell block was empty except for Beth and the baby. Everyone else was outside and Rick was worried about what Merle was telling them. He rushed ahead, stopping right outside the door. The sun was in his eyes, and for a moment he wasn't sure about what he saw. Michonne was standing on the other side of the car. Like nothing ever happened at all. Rick headed down the stairs, forcing himself to slow keep his movements slow and unhurried. Daryl stayed on the top of the steps and watched him go.

Carol passed by the man, heading in the opposite direction. She gave Rick's back what Daryl considered to be a rather dirty look as she went by. Once she got up the steps, she took the spot next to Daryl, leaning forward with one foot propped up on the railing.

"What's going on?," Daryl asked, nodding towards Michonne and his brother.

"Maybe that's what you should be telling me," Carol suggested. She was no fool. Since Rick got back from that meeting, there had been far too much secretive whispering. Hershel had been acting all sad and conflicted, with his face stuck in his bible. Rick was up to something. She could smell it.

"The governor tole Rick if we gave him Michonne, he would leave us alone," Daryl admitted. He had already told River, so he figured there was no point in keeping it from Carol. The two of them did a lot of quiet talking while they were washing up the laundry.

"He asked your brother to do it for him," Carol said. It come out sounding more like a statement and less of a question. Carol shook her head. She was not impressed. If Rick wanted to do something that horrible, he could at least have the balls to do it himself. Instead of asking Merle to do it for him. Daryl nodded, but she could tell he was distracted from the conversation now, concentrating on the little family drama scene that was playing out down by the car.

Carol leaned into the railing, stretching her back out. She glanced at Daryl out of the corner of her eye. He wasn't looking at her, so she knew she had the chance to have a good look at him. His gaze was focused on his brother and his older daughter. They were hugging.

"I'll be damned," Daryl mumbled under his breath. Then he smiled. A real smile, not one of the ones he forced out to make Carol feel better when she was trying to cheer him up. She didn't think it was possible, but he was even more handsome when he smiled. "I thought Harley was gone swing on him fer sure," Daryl said. He chuckled a little under his breath. When he saw Merle approaching the girl he almost rushed down there in case Harley went for him. Daryl stayed where he was because he saw River standing close by, keeping an eye on things. He knew she wouldn't let anything bad happen.

Carol smiled along with him, caught up in his happiness. Daryl was leaning againt the rails now, the same as her. He was standing so close that the sleeve of his leather jacket was brushing against the skin on her arm, completely oblivious of his effect on her. She struggled to keep her breathing even, reminding herself yet again that she would only make herself look like a fool if she made a play for Daryl. She had to be at least ten years older than him. And she looked older than that. There was no way a man that young and strong and good looking would be interested in worn out old lady like her. Not even at the end of the world.


	17. Chapter 17

Red River Blue

Chapter 17

Harley tugged at the swat vest she was wearing over her t-shirt. It wasn't made to fit a woman and because of that her breasts were pushed tight against her chest. The underwire on her bra was digging into the flesh of her armpits and once she got done tugging at the neck of the vest, she tried wiggling her body around to get the sides of the vest into a more comfortable spot. Harley had never worn one, and certainly never wanted to even try one on, but she guessed she now had some idea what it must feel like to be laced up in a corset. Her mom had tons of clothes like that from when she used to dance. Wren liked to put them on and prance around the apartment. But not Harley. If that was what it took to catch a man, she figured she was better off without one.

She tugged at the vest and tried to take a deep breath, pushing down the claustraphobic panic that was threatening to rise up inside her and make her rip the damn vest off and shoot a million bullets into the fucking thing. Her mom didn't want her here. She wanted her down by the camper with the rest of the babies. Wren and Carl and Beth and that one legged old man. Like that was going to happen. She was a better shot than half the people here. Harley wanted to stay and fight. Her dad backed her up and her mom gave in. Under the condition that she wear the swat vest and a helmet. So she pushed down the urge to rip the vest off and went back to peering through the scope on her gun..

The helmet was smashing her pontail into her skull and the vest felt like it was going to make her sweat to death before she even had the chance to get shot. But she didn't have long to wait. There was only one road that led into the prison that they hadn't blocked off. That was the one that they could see for miles away from the top of the guard tower. Glenn spotted the governor coming and sounded the alarm. Wren and the other kids took off down into the tombs, scurrying like mice. Near the other exit, the camper was parked. It was packed with supplies and weapons in case things at the prison went bad and they had to run for it. Everyone else knew their posts. Extra guns and ammo were already stashed. So all Harley had to do was pull on her swat gear, grab her gun and run.

The caravan pulled in. A few larger amoured vehicles and one extended cab truck. Harley got her first look at him when the people started climbing out. The governor. She knew it was him because he was the only one wearing an eye patch. Since she had been picturing some sort of evil super villian in her mind, the actual sight of the man was sort of a let down. He was tall. But otherwise he looked like an average man you might see on the streets. She wondered what his job had been before the outbreak. For some reason she pictured him in a small grey cubicle, answering phones with angry people on the other end. One of those inspirational pictures taped on the wall next to him with a picture of a fluffy kitten on it. _Hang in There._

Harley tightened her grip on her gun. She had the man in her sights. He was moving around a little, but she was sure she could head shot him and drop him like the giant sack of shit that he was. Shooting the governor now wasn't the plan. But missing the opportunity seemed like a terrible waste. Her finger tightened on the trigger. This man was the leader. If he fell, these people might just give up and run. There were a lot of them, but they looked scared. Most of them didn't even look like they knew how to use the weapons they were holding.

A small rock pinged off Harley's shoulder and she turned her attention away from the governor, glancing to her left. Her mother was pointing and shaking her head at her from her own hiding spot. Mouthing NO. Telling her she better not take the shot. Harley rolled her eyes. She didn't care what her mother said. This was going to end now. They couldn't live peacefully here if they constantly had to look over their shoulders for this lunatic. She adjusted her stance and whipped her head back. But when she did she no longer had a clear shot. There were people in between her and the man, and he was moving quickly out of sight, towards one of the door that led into the prison. Harley swore under her breath.

It was unsettling. Watching an army march into their home and not doing anything but watching them. Letting that man into the place where they ate and slept. Harley didn't like it. But this was not her plan. Her plan was to trap these people inside the cell block and pick every single one of them off like fish in a barrel. Rick had looked interested in that idea. But Hershel had said no. Once he took the moral high ground, no one was going to step up and brand themselves a cold blooded killer. Harley didn't press the issue, she could tell Hershel was a good man. But he was going to end up getting himself or someone else killed if he kept insisting on doing the right thing. She hoped today was not that day.

The last of the governor's soldiers disappeared from her sight, filing into the prison. Harley waited for it. She knew it was coming, but the noise still startled her and made her jump. In this new world, staying quiet was staying safe. Loud noises attracted walkers. Loud noises meant death. She had been prepared for the noise, but the loud roar of the alarm still made her want to panic and run.

The noise had the same effect on the governor's army. They skittered out of the prison like roaches when the lights got turned on. Not just running, but running and screaming in a total panic. Harley pulled the trigger on her gun, aiming out and over their heads as they ran. She also fired down near the feet of some of them people that were close to the edge of the crowd. This made them panic even more. Not a single one of them turned around or tried to fire back.

Harley flicked her eyes to her left. Her mom was shooting too. The woman's dark eyebrows were knitted together and she was holding the gun tight against her shoulder to cut down on the kickback. Her mom did better with a handgun. She was handling the rifle correctly, Harley had seen her dad showing her how to hold it earlier that morning. Then the two of them started kissing. The sight of that still made Harley want to throw up in her mouth a little, but it didn't make her crazy angry or upset anymore. She was slowly warming up to the idea of having a dad again. If he was going to keep sticking up for her when her mom was treating her like a baby, she figured she could put up with him.

Glenn and Maggie were firing over the crowd of panicked people, just like they were doing. It didn't take long before they all leaped back into the trucks they came in and tore out of the place. The battle was over and no one had even been hurt. Harley stood up and watched the trucks until they were gone. Then she felt her mom pull her into her arms. She was laughing. And that made Harley laugh. They did it. It almost seemed like it had been too easy. Her dad leaped up from the grassy spot where he was hiding out with her Uncle and waved at them. The two men were backup. In case the alarms didn't make the army run. They were both covered in walker guts and blood so the walkers wouldn't mess with them while they hid.

TWD

Wren was scared. Since the beginning of the outbreak she had never even been without her mother or sister. She didn't even pee alone. Usually the three of them stuck together, but if one of them had to go somewhere, the other one always stayed with her. Carl was in front of her and Beth was on her left. They hurried through the maze of tunnels. Beth had the baby in her arms. They had to move slower than Wren would have liked, since Hershel could only walk so fast on his crutches.

She gripped the handle of her knife, checking again to make sure it was still there. Then she felt for her gun. Wren knew how to use it. Her Uncle had taught both girls years ago with a pellet gun and then later with a real gun. But Wren was afraid to shoot a walker. She didn't even like shooting animals for food. Her sister and her mom always did it for her.

The hallways were cleared out, but they were still dark and scary. They smelled like rotting meat and bad eggs. One walker was still alive, locked in a cell. It reached through and grabbed for her as they walked by. She heard the hiss right before she felt it's cold dead fingers graze against her neck. Wren shrieked before she fell, scrambling away. All the walker got was a few strands of her hair. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes.

"I want Harley," she cried, "I want my mom, we have to go back." Beth looked at the girl and shifted Judith to even out her weight. Then she looked at her dad, hoping he knew what to do.

"We can't go back," Hershel said. He spoke to the girl in a calming voice. The one he used with injured animals. Her eyes were big and wide and her hands were shaking. She was glancing back the way they came like she was thinking about running back to her mother. Before she could, Carl stepped forward and extended his hand to the girl. Wren stared at it a moment before reaching up and slipping her hand into his. Then she stopped shaking.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he told her, "I promise." Wren nodded and let Carl help her to her feet. The girl straightened up her back, hearing her sister's voice in her head. telling her to stop acting like such a baby. She kept a tight hold on Carl's hand. It felt warm in hers. The confidence in his touch made her feel safe. She never held hands with a boy before.

Carl pulled her along, leading the small group since he was the one that knew the way. The tunnels were so dark that when they stepped out into the light it was almost blinding. Wren put her other hand up to shield her eyes from the sun.

They were outside the fences now. Back out in the world where the dead made the rules. A walker with one broken ankle caught their scent and turned to stagger in their direction. Wren started to back up, not able to go very far because she was still attached to Carl and he wasn't backing away. Hershel picked up his crutch and swung it like a club, smashing in the side of the monster's head. It smooshed in like an overripe melon, dark chunky looking blood oozing out into the leaves after it fell.

"Come on," Carl said. He pulled Wren quickly past the mess, heading for the camper he knew was around the next bend in the path. Wren, Beth and the baby were quickly secured inside. Hershel and Carl stood guard. It wasn't long before they heard the sirens going off at the prison. Hershel rested his gun on his shoulder and dipped his head down. Carl could hear him mumbling a hasty prayer.

Over the roar of the sirens, they heard the sounds of gunfire. Carl hated it. Being out in the woods with no idea of what might be going on. There was nothing for them to do but wait. Another walker wandered their way. Carl stepped forward this time, kicking it in the knee and then stabbing it in the head with his knife once it fell. Hershel gave him a nod of approval.

Then the boy came. He was running from the fight, but it was obvious he had been fighting with the governor. Hershel was telling him to give up his gun, but he was still holding onto it. Carl didn't like the way the boy kept glancing towards the camper. Wren and Beth and his little sister were in there. No one would tell Carl what the governor did to Maggie, which he knew meant it was something sexual. Something sexual and probably horrible. Carl was scared. Scared this boy might shoot him and hurt the girls inside the camper. Hershel was urging the boy to give up his gun, but Carl didn't want to take that chance. He pulled the trigger. The boy's brains blew out the back of his head. Then he fell down dead.

The sound of the gunshot brought Wren out of the camper. She had her handgun in her hand. When she saw the dead boy she didn't know and that Carl and Hershel were both alright, she let out a long breath she didn't know she had been holding. She didn't know how afraid she was for Carl until she thought something had happened to him. Her feet carried her along until her slim arms were around his neck, one hand still clutching her gun.

"Did you shoot him?," she asked. She felt the boy nod and he hugged her back so hard she could barely breathe.

"I promised I wouldn't let anything happen to you," he reminded her.

Hershel stared at the two kids in front of him, feeling conflicted. Blood was leaking from the dead boy's head, pooling up on the ground near the tip of his crutch. Hershel moved back a step. Away from the blood. He had been shocked and horrified when Carl shot that boy. But now he wasn't so sure how he felt. He had been willing to let Rick give Michonne over to the governor to keep his girls safe. Was that really so different. These were just scared kids that were being expected to make adult decisions. He patted Carl on the shoulder.

"Next time, give them a chance to surrender," Hershel told the boy. Carl nodded, looking like he was taking the advice seriously. Hershel nodded back and let the issue drop. "You two drag him away before he starts attracting the walkers," he told the kids. He felt bad about making them do it, but he couldn't do himself with only one good leg.

Wren nodded. She and Carl each grabbed a leg and Hershel watched them drag the boy's body away down the path, taking their innocence with it. A few moments later Hershel heard the alarms shut off, followed by the two quick gunshots in a row that he knew were the signal for all clear.


	18. Chapter 18

Red River Blue

Chapter 18

Spring was slowing giving way to the warmer temperatures of summer. The humidity wasn't oppressive yet, but Harley knew soon it would be so hot outside that even standing in the shade would make her hair frizz. Despite the weather's effect on her curls, the end of spring had always been her favorite time of the year. She made good grades in school, but sitting at a desk all day obeying rules that felt like they had no purpose had never been something she enjoyed. The arrival of summer meant freedom. She could read what she liked instead of what was assigned to her. She could wake up early and go fishing or sleep in late and go for an afternoon swim in the lake if thats what she wanted.

"We're losin' the light," Harley said, speaking quietly to her uncle. He nodded. Being alone in the woods with her Uncle Daryl was almost as good as being alone. Like her, he didn't feel the need to constantly fill the air with meaningless conversation. She had been hunting with him many times before the outbreak. That was how she knew what she was doing. But since the outbreak, the relationship between them had shifted. Instead of treating her like a student, he now treated her as an equal. A partner. Since the last time they had been hunting together, she knew her aim was better and she had learned to walk silently through the woods. Hunger and the pressure of her mom and sister depending on her so they could eat had taught her much faster than lessons from even the best hunter she knew would have been able to.

"There's a place," Daryl said. He lowered his bow and gestured with his hand. "Up ahead a ways. Kin stay there for the night." Harley nodded.

Daryl had been outside the fences a lot more than she had. Mostly with her father or with Michonne. When they were trying to track the governor. Her father and her uncle had given up. There was no point to tracking a cold trail. Looking for the man with no clue of where he had gone would be like trying to find a needle in a walker infested haystack. But Michonne was more stubborn than most. She had already been gone a week this time. _One of these days she's going to ride out and never come back._ Harley shook off her morbid thoughts about her friend and started paying closer attention to where she was walking. The last thing she needed was to step on some sort of trap or twist her ankle in a gopher hole.

They walked a few minutes more before the trees started to open up in front of them. Harley got a look at the place she guessed her uncle had been talking about. It was dumpy looking cabin, but still far more appealing than sleeping in a tree all night. The place had a familiar feel about it, but it took her a minute to make the connection.

"Looks like Papa Will's place," Harley said. She spoke quietly, speaking really to herself. But her words stopped her Uncle in his tracks. He brushed his bangs out of his face and looked back at her.

"How d'you know what his place looked like?," Daryl asked. He doubted Merle would have taken Harley there. His brother had never had much contact with their father after what the man said to him about getting married to River. _Take my advice son, ya can't make a whore into a housewife. Do what you need to with that little tramp girl and then broom her before you knock her up wit' a little bastard that's as useless and sorry as you are._ Daryl remembered the man's words as clear as day. Merle had been standing in what passed for the living room of their trailer. Daryl had watched him clench his fists as he stared at their father, who was already halfway through a bottle of cheap whiskey, his ass planted in his easy chair. For a moment, Daryl had been afraid that Merle might kill the man. But then River had come in from the porch. Merle was the only one that knew she was out there, and she had no doubt heard everything that had been said inside the trailer.

Daryl had even been a little afraid for her. Even he was scared to get close to his brother when he was angry. And a that moment, Merle was fuming mad. His jaw was ticking and his entire body was tense. River put her hand on his shoulder first, then lifted it off and reached for him, taking his hand in hers. _Its not worth it, let's just go._ Merle had cast one more hateful glance at the man in the chair and then turned on his heel and left.

"Merle never took ya there, did he?," Daryl asked his neice. Harley shook her head. Her dad never really took her anywhere. She had seen the cabin later, when Wren was about preschool age. When her grandfather had been dying of lung cancer. And probably cirrhosis of the liver too. She and Wren never went inside, but once a week her mother would drive them out into the woods to leave a basket of food on the man's porch. Muffins and fresh loaves of bread, mixed in with some canned goods. Once he had been sitting outside on the porch and Harley had gotten a look at him. He looked scary, like he was already half dead. Like a walker, though she hadn't known what a walker was yet at that time. He had lifted his hand up and waved at her. Wren ducked down and hid from the man, but Harley lifted her hand and waved back. She wasn't afraid of a sick ugly old man. She wasn't afraid of anyone.

"Mom," Harley said.

"River took you there?," Daryl asked, a touch of disbelief in his voice. Harley nodded.

"After he got sick," Harley explained, "Mom used to take him food once a week." Daryl shook his head, snorting air out through his nose. That explained a few things. He had visited with his father a few times towards the end. The man would call Daryl when he needed his medication filled. Because he knew if he called his other son, Merle would take half the pain pills for himself.

When Daryl went to the cabin, there were always half eaten loaves of bread lying around going stale. And not the sort of bread you could buy wrapped up in plastic wrap from the store. It looked homemade. His father refused to say where he got it, so Daryl had just assumed maybe some kindly neighbor had brought it. That possibility seemed unlikely, since the only neighbors his father had either lived too far away or hated him with an all consuming passion. But it was the only explanation that Daryl had been able to come up with at the time. River was the last person he would have ever guessed was taking pity on his father. Not after what he tried to do to her back when they were kids.

A walker stumbled into the small clearing, pulling Daryl out of his thoughts. Harley moved faster then he did, raising her bow and shooting it through the eye with an arrow. They stepped around it and headed up the rickety steps to the door of the cabin. Daryl had been inside the place before. He and Michonne had found it while they were out searching for the governor. He had been careful to steer clear of the place when Merle was with him, since the entire shed was full of moonshine. Daryl thought about dumping the stuff out, or throwing the jars away into the woods, but for some reason he never did. It sort of felt like it was waiting there for someone.

Despite having been in the small house before, Daryl and Harley checked the place to make sure it was clear. They sat cross legged on the floor and drank bottled water with the peanut butter and peach jam sandwiches River had packed in Harley's bag for them. There was a note in the bag with the food.

 _Be careful and hurry back._

 _Love, Mom._

 _P.S. Tell your uncle to track us down a boar, I want pork chops._

Harley laughed at the note before handing it over for Daryl to read. The note made him smile. He had been thinking about going for a deer, there were a lot more of them around so the hunting was easier. But he had seen pig tracks not to far away from the cabin. In the end they would get whatever animal crossed their path. But it wouldn't hurt to try for a boar. Pork chops sounded good to him too.

TWD

Harley fell alseep in the large armchair. Her gun was resting in the holster on her hip and her bow was across her lap. Daryl laid down on the floor with his head resting on his bag, but despite his body being tired from a long days hike, sleep alluded him. His mind was swirling with thoughts of his father and his brother and River and the strained and strange relationships he had with all of them over the years. Thinking about his father always left him feeling upset and angry. To calm himself down he thought about Carol. She had a soothing presence.

It was dark out, so they were probably already done eating dinner at the prison. People were starting to settle down and go to bed. River would help Carol clear up all the dinner dishes and they would stick them out in the big tub outside to soak. Then the two of them liked to sit near the raised vegetable gardens and share a mug of tea if there was tea to be had. When they were done, the dishes would be retrieved from the soapy water to be scrubbed and rinsed so they were ready for breakfast. River would head off to bed with Merle and Carol would go to her room alone.

When they cleared out the other cellblock for the former Woodbury residents, Merle had taken his girls and moved. Daryl had gone with them, taking the cell on the other side of Harley and Wren's room. A few days later, Carol had moved her things over too, taking an open cell upstairs from him. She never said why she moved. Daryl had assumed it was because she wanted to be closer to River. The two of them were close friends now. But sometimes he liked to pretend that she had moved to be closer to him.

About this time of the night, Carol would head upstairs to her room. She kept a little stash in there. Not alcohol or pills like some people had. It was a little shoebox full of candy. Sometimes when the prison was quiet with the sounds of people settling in for the night, Daryl would hear her up there crinkling wrappers.

Daryl pushed his shirt up, scratching at his stomach. He had a clear picture Carol in his mind now. She was wearing that grey top that River gave her, the one that tied in front. Not that anything she wore was ever overtly sexy, but that one was slightly lower cut and clingier then the rest of her shirts. She wore a lightweight blue sweater over it and when she bent down, she would hold the sweater closed with her hand to keep anyone from getting a peek down her shirt. For some reason unknown to him, Daryl found that small unconcious gesture so much sexier than a woman showing her breasts on purpose. It made him want to see what was inside her shirt.

Daryl cursed under his breath and twisted back to make sure Harley was still asleep. He wasn't feeling upset about his dad anymore, but now he was stuck in a cabin with his teenage niece and a giant boner in his pants. Which as far as he was concerned, made him a double pervert. First he was a pervert for getting wood when his neice was sleeping a few feet away, and secondly he was an even bigger pervert for thinking about Carol in the first place. They were friends, but he knew their relationship was never going to move beyond that. There was no way she was interested in him. He was a dirty redneck that had never had a real job his entire life. Even if she was willing to overlook that fact, she probably still thought he was too young for her.

Daryl pulled at the crotch of his pants, which were now uncomfortably tight. He tried to banish the images of Carol shirtless from his mind. What he needed to do was think about anything other than that. Walkers. He thought about them growling mindlessly along the fenceline of the prison, ripping their flesh off as they tried to stick their hands through the narrow openings in the chain link.

"Kick yer fuckin' ass!," Harley hollered. One of her long legs shot out, kicking at an assailant that only she could see. Her bow clattered to the floor next to her chair. Daryl about jumped out of his skin. Then he realized that the girl was just dreaming. He laughed at himself for spooking so easy. And he laughed at Merle's daughter. Even in her dreams Harley was ready for a fight. Daryl reached behind him, grabbing her outstretched foot and giving it a shake. The girl bolted up into a sitting position.

"What?," she asked, rubbing at her face with one hand while her other hand felt for the gun on her hip.

"Nuttin," Daryl told her, "you were havin' a bad dream." Harley nodded her head and flopped back into the chair. Daryl waited until he knew the girl had fallen back to sleep. It didn't take long. She hadn't even looked fully awake when she sat up and spoke to him. Daryl got up and adjusted the extra shirt she was using as a blanket. Then he quietly exited the cabin and headed out to the shed. What he needed was a drink.


	19. Chapter 19

Red River Blue

Chapter 19

Grasping the thin quilt that covered her bed, River pulled it up to her chin as she tried to get closer to the wall and away from the spot where the two mattresses butted up together. Every night she ended up sleeping on the crack and as the mattresses slowly slid apart. She felt Merle's arm tighten around her, pulling her back so she was tucked in with her back against his chest. He used his nose to push her hair out of the way and then she could feel the warm press of his lips against the nape of her neck. Kissing softly at first, then nipping with his teeth at the sensitive skin that was stretched taunt over the cords of her neck.

A delicious shiver shot down her spine at the unexpected contact of his teeth on her skin and she arched her back, pushing her ass into his hips. He caught her by the hip, grinding into her. His hand slid up her waist, under her shirt. Ghosting over her ribs, heading for the soft fullness of her breasts. His fingers only grazed the underside of one breast before she caught him by the wrist.

"Wren's in here," she reminded him, pulling his hand back down out of her shirt and placing it on the curve of her hip. Merle cursed under his breath.

"Kick her ass out," he whispered into River's ear before he sucked her earlobe into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth. He could feel River's body shaking with silent laughter. She was arching into him again, her resolve quickly crumbling.

Harley was gone. On a hunting trip with Daryl, looking to get a good sized deer or even a boar. The addition of the woodbury residents to the prison group left them with more mouths to feed. A lot more. They had gained supplies when they cleared out the town, but not enough to last a group this size for any considerable length of time. So hunting and supply runs were a constant absolute necessity.

The woods directly around the perimeter of the prison had been hunted out, which meant longer overnight trips to find game. Harley and Daryl were going to be gone a few days, and Wren had been afraid to sleep in her cell without her sister. So in she had come with her blanket and pillow, climbing up on the top bunk above her parents and passing out the way Wren had always passed out. The minute her head hit the pillow she was fast asleep.

"She's asleepin'," Merle said, deciding to try a different tactic since he knew River had no intention of waking their sleeping daughter and throwing her out of their room. He didn't really mind having Wren around, in fact he slept better knowing she was close by and safe from harm. But damn that girl was a cockblock from hell. He finally had River back and he felt like he never had enough time alone with her. Life at the prison didn't offer them much privacy. There was always someone around, jobs that had to get done, other demands on her time and energy. The only time she really belonged to him was at the end of the day when they pulled the sheet curtain closed and went to bed.

After so many years apart, River and Merle were more like newly weds than an old married couple. When they had been together, they had plenty of marital problems. But lack of sexual attraction to each other had never been one of them. Since they made up, he had gotten very used to having his needs met. Every night when they went to bed they would have a good roll in the sack and usually they would do it again in the morning before they got up for the day. He was not going to be able to just lie there in bed with her and go to sleep. Especially when all she was wearing was a skimpy pair of underpants and one of his ribbed tank tops. The top was worn and thin. It had a rip in the armpit on one side and the fabric was so thin he had been able to see the darker flesh of her nipples through the thin white material before she climbed into bed and covered herself with a blanket.

"Won't take long," he informed her, his hand moving over her hip. Fingers dipping inside her panties to rub at the soft hair between her legs. River was still giggling, biting at her lip to try and hold the laughter inside. Won't take long? Talk about some serious romance. She clenched her thighs together, denying him access.

"Let me alone, I'm tryin' ta sleep," she said once she finally got control over her laughter.

"Ya ain't sleepin', yer laughin'," Merle countered. That made her laugh more and she pulled the corner of her pillow up to hold it against her face where she could use it to muffle the noise. He gave up trying to force his hand between her thighs and slid it around, grabbing a handful of her firm backside before he slid his finger into her from behind. He grinned into her neck. Trying to sleep indeed. She was so wet he could feel the moisture that had already soaked into the material of her panties against the back of his hand. As soon as he had the tip of his finger inside her she was arching her back, her laughter turning into moans that were muffled by the pillow.

He added a second finger, moving them in and out of her until her hips were rocking to the motion of his hand. Then he yanked them out and gave her a firm smack on the ass.

"Ya want ta sleep, guess I better leave ya alone," he whispered into her ear. Then he made good on his bluff and rolled over, presenting River with his back. A few seconds later he felt the rustle of movement next to him that he knew was River kicking her underpants off and removing the tank top she was wearing. Her knees tucked in behind his and then he felt the hot press of her naked breasts against his back. She was kissing the back of his neck now, leaving a hot trail down the curve of it before she nipped at his shoulder with her teeth. Her hand caught his hip and he let her roll him onto his back.

She slid down his body, leaving hasty kisses behind her. When she got to his groin she pulled at waistband of the shorts he was wearing. Merle lifted his hips off the bed slightly, making it easier for her to rid him of his boxers, which were the only article of clothing he had on. She cupped his balls in her hand, and placed her mouth against the base of his hard length, kissing and licking up the underside of his dick until she got to the tip. He was groaning and lifting up with hips, eager for her to take him into her mouth. But instead she planted a teasing little kiss on the tip of his dick.

"If you wanna sleep, guess I better leave you alone," she teased, repeating the words Merle said to her a few moments before. With that she removed both her hands and mouth from his private area and flopped back down on her pillow. She heard Merle curse under his breath. Complaining that she wasn't playing fair.

She had intended to tease him a little more, but when she felt him tuck in behind her she found herself adjusting her body instead. Tilting her hips and bending one knee up into the air, spreading her legs and making it easier for him to enter her from behind. His hand slid between her legs, his fingers finding the swollen bud they had been seeking earlier. With his finger massaging her clit it and his hard length inside her, it only took a few thrusts before River found her release. Then Merle rolled her onto her belly so he could pin her down and pound into her until he found his own pleasure. The mattresses slid apart and they ended up fucking on the hard metal of the two bunks they had pushed together to make one big bed. The only sounds in the room were their hard breathing and the quiet squeak of metal bunk against the hard floor underneath its feet.

When River felt his hand twist into her hair, tugging just hard enough to make it feel good, she knew she was going to come a second time. As the first spasms were washing over her, she felt Merle yank out of her abruptly and then the splash of his warm fluid on the skin of her lower back. She lie still a moment, squeezing her thighs together to ride out the rest of her orgasm. Then she rolled back onto the mattress that was closest to the wall. Merle got up, peeking at the sleeping Wren shaped lump on the top bunk so make sure their lovemaking had not woken the girl. She was still snoring softly, unaware of the activities that had been going on in the bed below her.

He shoved the second mattress back onto the bed and climbed in behind his wife, pulling the blanket over them both. River hummed her approval when he snuggled in behind her and added his body heat to hers. She wasn't much for talking after sex. Another one of the qualities that he loved about her. Soon he felt River's breathing go slow and deepen and he knew that she slept. Sleep never came as easily for Merle as it did for his girls. He lay awake a while, thinking about his life and his family. More than anything he was grateful for the second chance he was getting to make things right with his family. But sometimes late at night his thoughts grew dark. Nothing in life came free. Especially happiness. Deep down Merle knew he was eventually going to have to pay the price for his and he was scared of what that price might be.


	20. Chapter 20

Red River Blue

Chapter 20

Carol was organizing the pantry where most of their limited food supply was kept. There was a run planned for later in the week and as far as she was concerned it couldn't come soon enough. They were running low on almost everything. She had a milk crate out, loading it up with the last of the canned potatoes. They would go well for dinner with the pork roast from the boar that Harley and Daryl brought back.

As she was reaching for the last can, Carol felt someone seize her by the elbow, pulling her roughly to her feet. Her instant reaction was fear, but when she spun quickly in place she saw it was only River grabbing at her.

"Don't ask me any questions, jus' come on," the woman told her, pulling Carol along with her whether she wanted to go or not. Carol was on guard, looking for any possible sign of danger, but the body language of everyone else that was still lingering around inside was far too casual for anything to be wrong.

River's moved her hand down from Carol's elbow, tugging her along by the hand instead. Her long ponytail swung as she walked and Carol could see the black lace of her bra showing through the thin white tank top she had on. The tank top was dingy white and had a rip in the armpit but on River it still looked sexy instead of dirty trashy. Or maybe it was a strange mix of both, which was somehow even more appealing. Carol had never considered herself sexy, not even when she was younger. On her a dirty old ripped mens undershirt would just look like a dirty old ripped undershirt. Homeless instead of trailer park chic. She had spent most of her adult life trying to blend into the background and keep from catching her husband's attention. Not that she wanted a man to notice her, Carol had no idea where to start.

Outside the light was blinding for a moment, but her eyes adjusted quickly. Carol saw a small crowd of people gathered in a loose cluster near the corner of the brick wall. Karen and Sasha was there, standing next to Maggie and River's daughter Wren.

"Did I miss anything?," River asked. Karen shook her head and side stepped closer to Sasha so Carol and River would have room to squeeze in. Carol thought about asking what was going on, but instead she just followed the gaze of the other women. There was a ladder leaning up against one of the tall poles that had a loudspeaker on the top of it. The speaker had been shot out when that prisoner had snuck back in and tried to sabatoge them.

Rick was on top of the ladder, swinging a broomstick at the speaker. He wasn't even gettting close to it. It was at least fifteen feet away from the long end of the broom. Carol raised an eyebrow and continued to watch. Several of the other men were standing around near the base of the pole, offering up their advice.

"Are they trying to get to the top of a forty foot pole with a ten foot ladder?," Carol asked. River nodded her head and bit back a smile, wrapping her arm around Carol's waist. Maggie had her arms crossed under her breasts, shaking her head. This was masculine dumbassery at it's finest. Now Rick was climbing down so Tyreese could climb the ladder. It appeared that Glenn was going to try to climb up onto Tyreese's shoulders and reach the speaker that way.

"They have been trying to get the generators going," Sasha explained, "the speaker at the top of that pole was sparking and making some kinda noise, so they think that's where the short is." Then she shook her head like she was looking at the dumbest ass thing she had ever seen in her life. Glenn was trying to climb up her brother's back. The other men were so worred about yelling at him and trying to tell him what to do that no one was holding the ladder. It started slowly sliding back. Daryl and Rick rushed in to try and stop the men from falling they all ended up in a jumbled pile on the ground. River snickered, noticing that instead of rushing in to help the falling men, Merle had darted his ass out of the way.

"How long are you going to wait before you tell them you can climb that pole?," Wren asked her mother. River shrugged. This was about the funniest thing she had seen in quite some time.

"I 'spose when I get done lookin' at their butts up on that ladder," River informed the girl, making everyone else giggle. The ladder was returned to it's rightful position and now being held in place by Rick and Merle so that Daryl could climb up it and try to reach the speaker. Since he was the same height as Rick, it didn't look promising for him. Carol looked down, kicking at a pebble near her shoe as she felt the blush rise up in her cheeks. She had never really been one for checking out men's asses, but if Daryl was going to put it on full display up on a ladder she decided it wouldn't hurt anything for her to take just one small peek.

She could see the muscles in his back bunch up as he reached above his head, swinging the broom in about the same way Rick had. His shirt was pulling up, revealing a small sliver of skin above the waistband of his pants. Her tounge flicked out, wetting her lips and then she was swallowing hard. To say his jeans fit him well would be an understatement. She was willing to bet his ass was as firm as the rest of his body looked.

"Yer all gone fall off that ladder and die!," River hollered at the men, screaming almost right into Carol's ear, breaking her out of the daydream she was having.

"Shuddup River!," Daryl hollered back from the top rung of the ladder. Merle grasped the ladder firmly, giving it a healthy shake. Nobody told his wife to shut her trap except for him. Daryl started cursing and trying to steady himself by wrapping his arms around the pole. Then he hurled the broom down at his brother, who ducked partly under the ladder to dodge it.

River must have decided she had enough because she took off across the pavement towards the men. Her daughter went chasing after her. Carol and the other women held their ground and watched. River walked over and a small dicussion started up. Mostly about what they were trying to do with the speaker in the first place. Glenn explained that there had to be two crossed wires in the speaker that needed to be uncrossed. The men had quickly figured out that they weren't going to be able to uncross the wires, they had decided on trying to whack at the speaker in the hopes that it might rattle around and uncross the wires. They had figured out which breaker led to the speaker, and it was the same one that ran the power in the shower area, which is why they were trying to fix it in the first place.

"Watch and learn," River announced, motioning for the men to back up and give her some room. Daryl was shaking his head at her, looking half amused and half annoyed. Everyone else looked more curious than anything.

The first thing she did was send the very inadequate ladder slamming to the ground. Then she toed off her pink converse sneakers and lifted one foot at a time to pull her socks off. She was wearing the white tank top Carol had noticed earlier and a pair of cutoff jeans shorts.

"I'll be damned," Sasha mumbled under her breath. Sasha felt she had a lot of skills, but bare legged pole climbing wasn't one of them. River gripped the pole with her hands and thighs, crossing her ankles to keep her legs from slipping. And up the pole she went like a human inchworm. From the practiced way she moved, it was clear to everyone that hadn't already known about her varied pre-apocolypse professions that this was not her first time with a pole between her legs. River wasn't really worried about that. Her problem was once she got to the top, she wasn't sure what to do. All the guys were trying to yell at her at once and she was yelling back at them to shut up and for one of them talk at a time.

River shifted her body and peeked inside the shot up speaker, not really sure what she was even looking for. But deep inside she saw a red wire and a black wire that were tangled up together with the metal copper insides showing. She figured that had to be the crossed wires the guys had been blustering about. Reaching in, she untangled the wires and made it so the metal parts were not touching each other, wishing she had a few peices of electrical tape to wrap around them. There was a piece of splintered wood inside, so she used that, tucking the two sections of wire each under a splinter to keep them from getting tangled up again.

"I think I got it," she yelled.

"Good get the hell down from there," Merle yelled back up at her. River was a lot higher off the ground than he felt safe with. Not that he didn't like the view, but just looking up at her was making him feel sick to his stomach. Heights weren't really his thing. He had used his hand as an excuse but he hadn't even wanted to climb that ladder. And that was only about 10 feet up.

Using the same techinique that got her up the pole, River wiggled and slid her way back down. She went as quickly as safety allowed. The metal pole was hot between her thighs and the muscles in her legs were starting to quiver. She decided she was seriously out of shape. Once her feet were on the ground she wiped her hands off on her shorts. Wren started clapping for her.

"Yay Mom!"

That Daryl laugh. A sound that was more rare to come by than it had been before the end of the world. River laughed along with him as she wrapped her arms around Merle and tucked herself into his side. Glenn had gone running inside the prison to flip whatever switch he needed to flip to test the power in the shower room. A few minutes later they could hear people inside the prison cheering. Glenn came running back out shouting that it was working. They had lights in the shower room and the other cellblock. And lights meant power, which meant a running water pump for the rain barrels in the shower room.

"Uh, good climbing," Rick remarked, not really sure what to say about River's display of monkey-like stripper climbing abilities, but feeling like he ought to say something. He had been dangerously near the point of being so frustrated that he was ready to start shooting at the stupid speaker with his gun again. And he was legitimately grateful to her for helping.

River just gave him a smile and a shrug like what she did was no big deal at all. Just another day of life no different from any other. She left Merle's side and plopped down on the concrete where she started pulling her shoes and socks back on. Rick's slimmer shadow was replaced by a larger one. River put her hand up to shade her eyes as she looked up at the only man who's hulking form was giant enough to shade her entire body from the sun.

"That was good climbing," Tyreese told her. His voice rose at the end of his statement, indicating that he was gearing up to ask her a follow up question. She could tell from the look on his face that the hamster wheel inside his head was turning. He watched her shimmy up that pole and now he was putting two and two together. River gave Tyreese her prettiest fake smile and braced herself for whatever the man was about to ask her. No doubt it would be something unintentionally insulting or just plain embarrassing. She wasn't ashamed of how she had supported her family, but it wasn't exactly her favorite topic of conversation either. And with Merle standing a few feet away, the situation had the potential to turn ugly if this man asked her something her husband didn't appreciate.

But none of that happened. Instead of asking her where she used to work or how much she charged to take off her clothes, Tyreese asked her something that made her laugh so hard her face turned red.

"Were you a firefighter?"


	21. Chapter 21

Red River Blue

Chapter 21

Harley shifted her body, leaning forward on the bunk to take her guitar back from Beth. She hadn't thought much of the girl at first. Honestly, she hadn't even really noticed her except as a number when she was counting how many people were in the group when they first showed up. Since the outbreak, Harley had gotten used to judging people by their survival skills. People were classified into two groups. Strong and weak. Upon meeting her, Harley had mentaly placed Beth into the second category.

Beth was weak. She was only alive because she had people stronger than her around that were willing to look out for her. Because of this, Harley naturally assumed they wouldn't have much in common. She was never rude to the other girl, but aside for casual passing converstation, Harley made no effort to get to know her. Then one day she was passing by Beth's cell. Beth was in the cell singing a song to Rick's cute little baby. Was surprised Harley was that she wasn't singing a lullaby. She was singing an old Johnny Cash song.

Harley stopped in the doorway of the cell, leaning against the metal bars and listening until Beth felt her gaze and looked up. Beth shifted Judith from her lap onto a small blanket she had set out on the floor.

"You need help with somethin'?," she asked. Harley shook her head, realizing that she was staring at the other girl, and since she had what her mother like to call a resting bitch face, that meant she was probably staring and scowling at her.

"No... I just," Harley stammered, trying to think of what she meant to say. "You like Johnny Cash?," she finally asked. No offense to Beth, but she looked more like a Taylor Swift fan. Beth nodded. Then she scootched over to make room for Harley on the floor next to her. Harley hesitated in the doorway a moment. Talking to Beth was fine, but she wasn't sure if she actually wanted to sit in her room with her. But curiosity finally won out over her general mistrust of people and the next thing she knew she was sitting on the floor in Beth's room with a baby in her lap.

The two girls didn't have a lot in common. Especially not when it came to their former home lives and upbringings. Other than the fact that Carl had the worst body odor out of everyone in the prison, the one thing they could agree on was music. They liked a lot of the same singers and bands. Harley played the guitar and Beth liked to sing. Beth was also halfway decent at playing the harmonica and could tap out a simple rhythm on the large wooden bowl they had taken from the kitchen so they had something to use as a drum.

"My dad asked if we wanted to play for everyone after dinner tonight," Beth mentioned. Harley adjusted herself into a more comfortable position and strummed at her guitar. She wrinkled up her face a little at Beth's sudden suggestion. Playing her guitar was something Harley enjoyed, but it had always been a solitary pursuit. Something she did alone in her room to unwind and relax. The only other person she had ever made music with before Beth was the broke college boy her mother hired to give her guitar lessons after school. She had never played in front of anyone besides her mother and sister, and that was only if they hung around in her doorway long enough to listen.

"I dunno," Harley said. She looked down at her guitar, trying to ignore the hopeful look on Beth's face. Harley usually didn't give a shit what anyone thought about her. But for some reason the thought of playing music in front of them made her almost queasy. It would be like walking around in front of everyone naked and exposed. The thought of playing in front of her dad was even more unappealing. She had made her peace with him and the idea of her parents being together again. But that didn't mean she was ready to perform in front of him like a trained monkey.

"What's the point of practicing all these songs if nobody's going to hear them?," Beth asked. She was careful to keep her tone soft and even. If she had learned one thing about Harley it was that she was stubborn as a mule and hated people trying to make her do things she didn't want to do. The truth was, Beth's father wasn't the only one that asked. Almost everyone had been asking her when they were going to play the songs they had been learning for the group. Life at the prison didn't offer much in the way of entertainment. There was no tv. No radio, excpect for a few busted cd players and even then there weren't a lot of cds to choose from. People were bored.

"I dunno," Harley said again. Beth sighed and decided to leave to topic alone for the time being. She thought maybe she might try and talk to Wren. The younger of the two Dixon girls was the only one that Beth had ever seen get her the elder one to do things she didn't want to. Her method of attack was to follow Harley around all day and harrass her until she gave in and did whatever it was that Wren wanted her to do.

The last time the girl had been bugging Harley to play double dutch with her and Mika. They needed a third person to twirl and Mika's sister had been banished from the game since she kept smacking them with the jump ropes. Beth thought Harley was about to choke the life out of her sister, but finally she just gave in and went outside. She even called out a few chants for the girls while they jumped. Innappropriate chants, but chants all the same. Beth was glad her dad wasn't outside to see her laughing at the other girl's dirty songs.

Harley was chewing at her bottom lip, playing a little Tom Petty on her guitar but not really concentrating on it. She was still deep in thought, considering what Beth asked her about playing for everyone. A light tap on the bars of the cell caught her attention. She stopped playing and looked up. Then she wished she hadn't.

"Sounding good," Zach announced. As if anyone had asked for his opinion. He beamed a big smile at Harley despite the fact that she was scowling at him. Sometimes Beth wondered if that's just how her face looked. Zach came forward into the cell, saying a polite hello to Beth before he turned his attention to Harley. From behind his back he produced a small bouquet of flowers. Beth was actually rather impressed. It was a thoughtful gesture. The flowers were light blue with a few purple ones mixed in.

"Saw these and thought of you," Zach said, shoving the flowers a little closer to Harley, "they're the same color as your eyes." Harley was looking at the boy like he was offering her a big plate full of dogshit instead of a handful of wildflowers and Beth was having a hard time not laughing.

"What am I supposed to do with flowers?," Harley asked, making no move to take the gift. This kid was a slow learner if she ever saw one. She had been as rude to him as she thought she could get away with. And he just would not give up. She was almost starting to develop a grudging respect for him, but she still wasn't interested. He drove the kind of car that boys only drove because they liked attention and the one time she tried talking to him about sports he said the only sport he watched was soccer. That had been the end of that.

"Well," Zach said, his confidence starting to falter, "You could put them in your room to make it smell nice... or wear them in your hair." He didn't know what the hell girls did with flowers. All he knew was most girls liked getting them and they usually got him laid or at least to second base. Last he knew he was a reasonably attractive young man. Who drove a cool car. He usually didn't have to try this hard just to get a girl to hang out with him. But Harley was pretty enough to be worth the effort. She had a killer body, all titties and long tan legs. He even sort of liked the angry little look she always had on her face. And he was fairly sure from the way she acted that she was a virgin. Which made her even more exciting.

"I'm allergic," Harley informed him. It was a lie, and she knew Zach probably knew she was lying. But it seemed slightly more polite than telling him to shove his pathetic attempt at getting in her pants straight up his ass along with his thumb.

"I'll take them," Beth offered, eager to put an end to the increasingly awkward situtation. Zach was cute. She wished the flowers had been for her in the first place, but she would still take them. Zach turned and handed Beth the flowers, giving her another handsome smile. Then he turned his attention back to Harley for the second time. He lounged against the frame of the bed she was sitting on and leaned in closer to her.

"It's a full moon tonight," he said, "I got a bottle of wine hidden away in my room if you wanna take watch with me tonight." Beth felt her eyes go wide as she watched the other girl's eyes go narrow and predator-like as she started Zach down. Harley looked so much like Daryl's brother when she made that face it gave Beth a chill. Beth had a feeling whatever Harley was about to say to this boy, it wasn't going to be something he would soon forget.

"She can't," Beth blurted out before Harley could speak, "We are playing music for everyone tonight after dinner."

"That's right," Harley said, understanding that Beth was both giving her an out and tricking her at the same time. She was about to get up and ram her foot so hard up Zach's ass that he was going to taste her toes, and that would end up getting her in trouble. So she decided it was probably best for her to just agree with whatever Beth said.

"Well, maybe another time then," Zach suggested. He lingered a little longer, smiling at Harley and trying to get her to smile back. Then he headed back the way he had come. Harley rolled her eyes at his back while Beth took one of the flowers from the bundle and tucked it behind her ear.

"So...," Beth said, flashing the other girl a mischevious smile, "What songs do you want to play for everyone after dinner tonight?"

"How 'bout the song where I kick yer ass," Harley spit back. Beth was worried for a second, until she saw the corner of Harley's mouth twitch up into a grin. Also she knew well enough by now that Harley didn't make threats. If she wanted to kick Beth's ass, she would already have her on the ground punching her face in. Beth held the flowers up to her face and breathed in the sweet and slightly woodsy aroma. Then she leaned back and started going over songs in her head, trying to figure out which ones they knew best and which ones sounded best when the two girls sung them together.


	22. Chapter 22

Red River Blue

Chapter 22

It was still bright outside the prison but the light inside her cell was dim. Having the curtains pulled shut blocked the small amount of light that came filtering in through the high windows that lined one wall of the cellblock. Carol hated wasting batteries, but as she tried to read the pages of her book she found herself squinting over them even with her silly looking reading glasses perched on her face. They were pink and sparkly, something Michonne picked up for her the last time she was out looking for the man formerly known as the governor.

Finally Carol gave up trying to read in the dim light and decided to preserve what little good vision she had left, flipping the switch on the tiny camping lantern she kept next to her bed. She turned back a few pages, rereading the part of the story she had already read but not absorbed. The book was something River loaned her with a wink and a sexy shimmy of her shoulders. The woman read nothing but trashy romance novels, most of which were dog eared on the pages that contained graphically descriptions of sex acts. Carol had seen River's older daughter pick one up the other day and thumb through it. After a few pages, Harley hurled the book back down onto River's bed in disgust, mumbling about how the book was nothing but a bunch of nasty humping.

The book Carol was reading now was so much better than the other ones River had loaned her. Some of the pages were still dog eared, but unlike some of the other books she had borrowed, in this one there was actually a compelling story leading up to the act of lovemaking. The story took place during the ice age, which Carol had decided was a lot like living in the apocalypse. The characters hunted for food, fought beasts of all manner, and met strangers during their journey that were sometimes friendly and sometimes not. The main characters in the book were a pair of brothers that were on an adventure and a young woman that had been banished from her people and was fighting to survive alone in a valley.

As Carol read, it was usually easy for her to immerse herself in the story, imagining herself as the girl and Daryl as one of the brothers. But today she couldn't seem to concentrate on the printed words. She was rereading the same page now for the third time. All she could see was Daryl up on that ladder. The way the muscles in his shoulders bunched up when he reached his arms above his head. This led her to thinking about all the little moments between them that she knew she was making out to be more than what they were. How he put his hand on the small of her back when she was handing him his breakfast. Or offered her his hand to help her down from a high step.

Carol threw the book down next to her on the bed and scrubbed at her face with her hands, ordering herself to stop thinking about Daryl. She wiggled her hips, sliding down lower on the bed, ignoring the almost painful throb between her legs. Her shirt rucked up as she slid down, exposing the flat of her stomach. She still had the stretch marks from when she had carried Sophia, but the little poof of extra fat that used hover above her pubic hair was gone. The tiny roll of fat that Ed used to grab at as he insulted her, calling her a ugly fat slob. She didn't miss it. Or him. They were all leaner and stronger now. With harder muscles and less fat. Even her.

She rubbed her hand over her stomach, letting one finger dip inside the waistband of her pants. Closing her eyes, she gave up on fighting the images that she knew were going to creep into her mind whether she wanted them to or not. The prime perverted thought of the day of course being how good Daryl's ass looked up on that ladder and how much better it would look without a thick layer of denim covering it. And what it might feel like to grip it with her hands, digging her nails into the firm rounds of flesh as he pushed inside her.

Her hand dipped down inside her pants, fingers caressing through the soft patch of hair above her opening. And of course someone chose that particular moment to bang on the bars of her cell. Two loud metal clangs.

"Carol, you in there?"

Carol swore under her breath, knowing that the voice belonged to Daryl and also knowing that since it was him, her curtain was about to be yanked open without him waiting for permission to enter her room. None of the Dixons had any manners. Carol yanked her hand from her pants and tried to pull her shirt down while pulling her horrible granny glasses off her face at the same time. She was in mid motion when the curtain was unceremoniously thrust open.

"Dammit Daryl," she cursed, "I mighta been naked in here." Daryl shrugged, hiding a smirk. It was unusual to see Carol so flustered. Her clothes were all rumpled up and her face was beet red. His smirk disappeared and he sucked in his bottom lip to chew at it as he thought about what she might have been doing in bed that would make her so embarrassed to have him walk in on her.

"But ya ain't neekid," he said, pointing out the obvious. An unwelcome thought floated into his mind before could stop it. That it was too bad she wasn't naked, because he wouldn't have minded getting a peek at that. Daryl stopped chewing on his lip and replaced it with his thumb, chewing at the skin around his nail. He decided he really ought to make an effort to stop thinking like a pervert around Carol.

"You wanta come on and watch the singin'?," Daryl asked, quickly deciding he ought to stop staring at the woman in front of him and say what he came to say. River sent him up here to fetch Carol and that's what he intended to do. Carol was up from her bed now, smoothing out the last few wrinkles in her shirt. Her face was still flushed, but she had regained control over her facial expressions.

"I'm going to get some water," Carol said, pushing past him out of her cell, "I'll meet you down there." She had to get away from Daryl. Looking at him standing there in the doorway of her cell, chewing at his thumb. Carol didn't know if his close proximity to her was driving her crazy or if it was something else, but she had the sudden urge to tell Daryl exactly what she had been getting ready to do before he had yanked her curtain open. And that conversation would only end one way, with her being totally humilitated.

Daryl shifted his thumb, chewing at the other side of it. He watched Carol hurry off with even more curiosity than he had before. He glanced into her room, hoping to get a clue as to what sort of business she had been up to before he had interrupted her. The little camping lantern next to her bed was on. And there was a well worn paperback book lying open on her rumpled bed. Daryl knew he really shouldn't be going inside her room and touching her things. He glanced up and down the cellblock to make sure no one was watching and then darted inside against his better judgement, snatching up the book.

There was a picture of a horse on the front of the book. Boring. At the sight of that he almost tossed the book back and left. But then he noticed a few pages had the corners folded down, marking a spot. He flipped the book open to one of the marked pages and read a few lines. It took him a moment to register what he was reading. This book was nothing but porn. There were no pictures, but he knew porn when he saw it. Daryl started to laugh. He had no idea that people even made books like this, or he would have taken up reading a long time ago.

He laughed and little more before he suddenly made the connection in his mind. Carol's flustered appearance when he opened her curtain. How red her face was. She had been in here, reading her some porn and probably getting ready to rub one out. The mental image of that was almost as shocking as it was sexy. He supposed everyone masturbated. It was a normal human function. But he had never really thought about Carol doing it. Not before today anyway.

"I thought you were coming in to get Carol?," River asked. Daryl startled. He was so deep into his thoughts he hadn't heard her approach. She poked in and turned the book in his hands so she could see the cover. "That's a good one," she informed him, "If you want to borrow it when Carol's done I got all the good parts dog eared." Daryl smiled and tossed the book back where he had found it. His body reacted to River's close presence, the male part of him calming down and slowly coming back under his control. He tossed his arm around her shoulders and let River lead him out of Carol's cell and down the steps towards the outside door.

 **** Thanks to everyone that took the time to leave a review. Daryl and Carol will eventually happen in this story but I want to try to keep them mostly in character so its going to be a slow burn. ****


	23. Chapter 23

Red River Blue

Chapter 23

Harley's stomach still felt like it had a big bat flapping around down in the pit of it. The singing went better than she thought it would. After dinner, which she had only picked at because she had been too nervous to eat, everyone had gathered around outside and listened to her and Beth play and sing. Harley was grateful to her mom, who must have known she was scared and trying not to show it. Her hands were shaking. Before Harley started playing, her mom took her guitar and strummed out the only song she knew, Wonderful World by Sam Cook, singing the words in her soft throaty voice. It had only sounded okay, but Harley could tell people were still enjoying it. Her mom wasn't much of a singer but she was seasoned when it came to performing in front of a crowd. It broke the ice and made Harley feel a little less nervous. Her hands stopped shaking.

They played longer than Harley thought they would, until the shadows lengthened and the day gave way to the dusk of the evening. After she was done, people were smiling at her and telling her how much they enjoyed her music. Asking if she took requests and if she had any of her own songs that she wrote that she might be willing to play for them next time. Harley made every attempt to stay hidden behind Beth during this activity, which was harder to do than it sounded since she was at least a foot taller than the other girl. Finally she gave up and just accepted the compliments and smiles, feeling grateful for once that her father suddenly appeared at her side, his arm hanging loosely around her shoulders. Most people instinctually gave Merle a wide berth, and since he was standing next to her that meant they stayed out of Harley's personal space as well.

Once they were away from the small crowd, Merle removed his arm from her shoulders, leaving some of the warmth from his touch behind. He walked her back to her room, with Wren bouncing around next to them, chattering at him and trying to get him to get him to hold his arm piece up in the air and let her hang from it like a monkey. He let Wren hug him instead, reminding her she was getting too big and too heavy for games like that. Harley got a gentle squeeze on her shoulder. Her father looked at her like he had something to say, but ended up just offering her a slight dip of his head before walking away and heading inside the room he shared with her mother.

His face had been almost sad, and it occured to Harley that before tonight, Merle had never heard her play or sing before. Never been to one of her basketball games or seen her kicking other girl's asses out on the hockey field. He had missed so much, and in that moment she felt a pang of sadness and regret for the man. The empathy she suddenly had for her father felt odd bouncing around inside of her. Most of her life the only emotions she had allowed herself to feel towards the man that fathered her were hate and anger. She didn't act on the impulse but it was there. The urge to chase after her father and hug him tight around the neck as if she was still a dumbass little kid like Wren instead of a nearly grown woman. The overwhelming desire to have him love and accept her.

Wren was already under the covers on the bottom bunk by the time Harley was pulling her nightshirt over her head. It was warm inside the prison and there wasn't much of a breeze. So she had taken to sleeping in one of her mom's old bakery tank tops and a loose fitting pair of pajama pants. They fit her in her slim waist, so that meant they were way too short and only fell to just below the knee. They also had pictures of a cartoon skunk on them. But function prevailed over fashion. The sleep pants were comfortable and that was all Harley really cared about. She didn't have anyone she needed to impress when she was climbing into bed at night.

Her hair was still damp from the shower she took earlier that day. Harley pulled it down from the tight bun it was tied up in and combed through it with her fingers. A few loose strands came sliding out and she held her hand away from her, shaking them off and letting them drift to the cement floor of her cell. Harley laid down in her bed, but her mind was still racing. She was not only keyed up with nervous energy from the music performance, her mind was also racing with thoughts about her father. Feelings she had been pushing and holding deep down inside her for years were bubbling back up to the surface. The desire to have him there and present. Involved in her life. She remembered the sad and lonely feeling she would get when she was the only kid at a game that didn't have a parent there cheering her one because her mom was too busy working and her father was too busy drinking.

Harley tossed her blanket off and swung her legs down from the bed, landing soundlessly on the floor next to the bed. She slid her bare feet into the cheap plastic flip flops her mother insisted she wear in the communal shower room. Harley didn't know where she was going, she just knew she was going to go crazy lying in her bed with her mind racing. She thought about going outside, maybe siiting up a while with Daryl since he was on watch, but at this time of night after the rain they had she knew the mosquitoes would eat her alive. So she grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen and headed down into the tombs instead. Not all the way down, just into the hallway that led to the library.

The selection of books in the library was pretty pathetic. They were all either books Harley had read before or books she had no desire to read. She was so bored she had even tried reading one of her mom's romance novels. That had been a mistake. But Harley shuffled down the hall just the same, telling herself that there was always a slim chance that someone had returned something good, or maybe brought something new back from a run that she hadn't read yet. Her plastic shoes made little smacking noises against the hard floor as she walked. The air was colder away from the cellblock and she wrapped her arms around herself, feeling her nipples pucker up and go hard against the thin material of her tank top.

The door to the library was cracked open. Harley let herself inside and clicked the door shut behind her. She headed for the only shelf in the room that contained rows of books and pointed her flashlight at the bindings. The tip of her finger traced along the row, pulling out books where the spine was too faded and worn so she could read the title on the cover. Like she had figured, there wasn't much to choose from. She managed to find one book she hadn't read before. The picture on the cover wasn't promising, but at least it wasn't a picture of two people with their clothes falling off looking like they were about to kiss. It was a black and white picture of a girl who's hair was turning into hundreds of flying birds.

Harley perched on the edge of the table, flipping the book over to read the description on the back cover. She only got past the first sentence before she was up off the table and backing towards the shelf of books. Her flashlight clattered to the floor along with the paperback book.

"Didn't mean ta scare you," Zach said. There was a slur to his words and the bottle in his hand was reflecting beams of light from her flashlight. The wine he offered to drink with her. He must have decided to drink it himself.

"You follow me down here?," she asked the boy. He laughed at the suggestion before he picked up the flashlight and shined it into her face, making her squint as her eyes struggled to adjust to the bright light.

"Just wanted to make sure you were safe," he told her. Harley leaned forward, snatching her flashlight out of his grasp and pointing it at the floor. The last thing she needed to keep her safe was a drunken idiot following her around with a boner in his pants.

"I can take care of myself," she informed him before she reached down and snatched up her book to keep it from being stomped on. Zach just smiled at her, his eyes roaming over her body and reminding her that she was braless and pantyless under her pajamas. She crossed her arms over her chest to cover her nipples and glared at him.

In Zach's drunken state, he had convinced himself that Harley had changed her mind about his offer and come down here hoping to meet him in private. She had walked right past his cell on her way down here, making sure he saw her. Now she was just acting shy. And there was no reason for her to be shy. He reached forward, putting his hand on the back of her neck and pulling her forward until their lips were touching.

Harley glared at the boy in front of her. One foot went back, her body adjusting so her balance was better. The book in her hand she tossed onto the table next to her. With her other hand, she fixed her hold on the flashlight so she was holding it more like a short baton than a sorce of light. Her body was humming with electricity, ready for the adrenaline release that always went hand in hand with physical violence. Her mother had encouraged her to channel her anger into sports, where it could be a positive outlet. But there wasn't exactly a field hockey team here at the prison. The closest she had come to any kind of release was stabbing walkers down at the fences. And that always left her wanting.

She supposed most girls in her postition would be scared. Alone in a dark room with a boy that had proven time and time again that he wouldn't take no for an answer. Another girl might scream or try to run. But not Harley. She stood her ground. Poised and ready. Ready and maybe even waiting for the young man in front of her to try something. And that's exactly what he did.

Zach took a drunken shuffling step towards her. He reached out and put his hand in her neck, his fingers tangling into her hair and pulling a few strands out by the root. She could smell him now, or at least smell what he had been drinking. His breath was sour and hot on her lips before he kissed her. The disgusting press of his mouth came first, followed by the wet dog lick of his tounge as he tried to shove it into her mouth.

Harley bit down on his lower lip with her teeth as she brought her knee up into his groin. The noise he made was like a scream and a grunt combined into one. This was followed by a rather high pitched squeal when Zach brought his hand to his mouth and pulled it away, seeing the blood there. He dropped what was left of the bottle of wine he had been drinking, the contents seeping out onto the rug. Harley gripped the flashlight, expecting him to come at her again. And when he did, he wasn't walking away with all his teeth. But Zach didn't come at her again. Instead he slumped to the floor, sitting in the expanding puddle of wine, and started crying.

"Why'd you bite me?," he whined, "I only wanted to kiss you." Harley rolled her eyes. This douche had to be kidding. Zach had been pestering her for weeks. He had followed her down her. Tried to grab her. And now he wanted to cry about it. Well boo-fucking-hoo.

Harley leaned down and grasped the sniveling boy, her hand fisting into his shirt. He put his hands up like he was surrendering. "Come near me again and I will fucking end you," she warned him. Zach nodded like a bobble head. He had no intention of ever going near her crazy ass again. That was for certain. He liked his private parts in one peice.

Harley dropped him back to the ground and picked up her book from the table. She didn't run from the room, she walked. Her shoes flopping against the soles of her feet. When she got back to her room, she climbed into her bed. Pulling the blanket up over her shoulders, she lay her head on her pillow. Within a few minutes she was asleep.

 **** The two books that are mentioned in this chapter and the one before that Carol was reading are Blackbirds by Chuck Wendig and Valley of the Horses by Jean Auel. I have a Walking Dead fic loosely based on the second one called Wild Horses if anyone would like to read it. It's not really a crossover, but more of a walking dead fic inspired by the events of that book. ****


	24. Chapter 24

Red River Blue

Chapter 24

Daryl watched Merle until his brother disappeared around the side of the building. He shifted his crossbow so that it wasn't digging into his back and tried to get comfortable. Today was game of watch and wait. They were planning to hit up a store called the Big Spot. But the place was crawling with walkers. And even worse, someone had set up camp there, so the walkers were fenced in front of the door leading into the store.

The radio had been Glenn's idea. About a half a mile away from the store, they set up a radio rigged to a car battery. The volume was turned up as high as it would go. Merle cut a hole in the fence that was keeping the walkes in. Then he and Daryl ran. Now all they had to do was watch and make sure all the walkers got out so they could come back tomorrow with more people and clear out whatever supplies were left inside the store.

Shifting his weight around again, Daryl tried to ignore the grumble of his empty stomach. He glanced beside him. When Merle went to check around the back of the building, he left his pack behind. Before Merle went on a run, River always packed him a lunch. She usually put a little something extra in there for Daryl too. Daryl hesitated a moment, taking one more drag on his cigarette before flicking it out into the empty parking lot. He looked around to make sure no one was watching him, then he yanked Merle's bag open and started poking around inside.

Feeling the crunch of a brown paper bag, Daryl pulled it out and unrolled the top. Like he had hoped, there were two sandwiches inside. Score. They were wrapped in tinfoil, so Daryl reached inside and peeled the corners open to see what sort of sandwiches were inside. One looked like tomato and mayo so he left it for Merle. The peanut butter and jelly one was for him. When he yanked the sandwich out, a small folded peice of paper fluttered down into his lap.

Daryl was sure the note was not for his eyes, in fact when he turned it over he saw it had Merle's name written on it in River's girlish loopy script. But he was curious as to what it said. They slept together every night, so Daryl wondered what could River have to say to his brother in a note that she hadn't already said to him in person. Setting the sandwich in his lap, Daryl unfolded the note before he had a chance to change his mind. He wasn't sure what he was expecting. A list of what River wanted from the store or a funny joke like the one she had written in the note she packed for Harley maybe? Instead he quickly realized that he was reading something far more private. A love letter. And not just any love letter, it was a poem.

 _When you drive_

 _and the miles go flying by_

 _I hope you smile_

 _if I ever cross your mind_

 _You are the pleasure of my life_

 _and I cherish every time_

 _My whole world_

 _It begins and ends with you_

 _On that Highway 20 ride_

Daryl read the note over again, a small smile creeping across his face. Highway 20 was the road they took to get here. Which meant River must have written the poem recently. The thought of his tough as nails brother getting love poems from his wife was both hysterical and adorable at the same time. Words Daryl never in his life thought he would ever associate with Merle.

Before Daryl could start reading the poem again, which he had every intention of doing, the paper was snatched roughly from his hands. In it's place he now had his brother's angry face glaring at him.

"What the fuck!," Merle cursed. Not only was his bag opened. Daryl's dumbass was eating his food. As if that wasn't enough, the little shit had a piece of paper in his hands that had Merle's name written on the back of it in River's handwriting. Merle clambered up into the bed of the truck and flipped the note over so he could read what it said.

Daryl peeled his sandwich open and took a large bite, chewing with his mouth open and trying to pretend he didn't notice his older brother's ears getting redder by the second. Merle finished with the note. Daryl expected him to rip it up and toss it away, but instead the man smoothed it out and folded it up neatly, stuffing it into the pocket of his pants.

"Stay outta my shit," he spit at Daryl.

Once again, Daryl had to fight the urge to chuckle. River was good for his brother. She always had been. If he had caught Daryl getting into his pack and touching his shit a few months ago, there was a good chance Merle would have done a lot more than cuss at him. He probably would have had him on the ground, roughing him up a little at the very least. But not now. Merle was getting soft, but not in a bad way. Maybe soft was the wrong word. Calm. That was how he seemed now. Calm and much more in control of his anger. Not being high all the time was probably helping with that.

"She put a tomata sammich in there for ya," Daryl told his brother, hoping the information might serve as a peace offering. Merle only grunted in response, but he did open the bag and take out the sandwich, closing his eyes as he chewed the first bite. He didn't know what the hell she put in them, but River made the best tomato sandwiches Merle ever had in his life. One of the little things he missed the most when they had been apart was the lunches she would send to work with him. They were never anything fancy, but they were always good. When he worked for a short time as a diesel mechanic, the guys at the shop used to hang around him during lunch time, knowing that there were often extra cookies or cupcakes in Merle's lunch bag. They only laughed once about the pink frosting. After he shared the first few extra cookies out the laughter turned quickly into hey man do you have anymore o'them pink cookies?

The brothes ate their sandwiches in silence, watching the herd of walkers in the fenced area in front of the store slowly empty out. Merle pulled a bottle of tea out of his bag, the large chunk of ice now slowly melting, making the outside of the bottle sweat. He took a few long swallows before handing it over to Daryl, who made sure not to smile when he took it. Merle sharing the tea with him was his way of saying he forgave him for reading the letter, but if Daryl knew if he started snickering at him, get along time would be over in a real big hurry.

There was something Daryl was curious about. He really knew better than to ask, but Merle seemed more relaxed than normal. Even his face looked peaceful as he stared out into the empty lot.

"Does she always write you letters like that?," Daryl finally blurted out, taking another sip of the tea. He peeked at Merle out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge how angry his question had made the man. Daryl was being a little nosy. He knew it. But Merle didn't seem angry. Quite the opposite, he had a smile on his face now. A real one. Not the ones he gave to people that were accompanied by his midder finger thrust into the air.

"She used to," Merle admitted, "when I was overseas." War was so much worse than people could ever imagine. He saw men a hundred times tougher than him crack under the pressure. River's letters and the pictures she sent got him through. He wasn't ashamed to admit that. Her love was the only good thing he had in his life. He would never be ashamed of her.

"Liked her letters," Merle added with a different sort of smile on his face now, "but I liked the pictures better." Daryl snorted out a laugh. From the tone of Merle's voice, he guessed his brother was talking about pictures of the naked variety. River had never been shy about showing off her body. So Daryl could only imagine the sort of pictures she might be sending to her husband when he was away at war. Back then pictures of River probably still qualified as porn of the illegal underage sort. On second thought, Daryl decided it might be better if he didn't imagine that.

"So you gone nail that ass or what?," Merle asked. Of course he meant Carol. Since they were talking about naked, Merle thought he might as well change the subject to all the naked ass Darylina wasn't getting. Daryl thought about telling Merle to shut his fat mouth and stop talking about Carol like that, but he knew that would only encourge the man to think of even more foul things to say about her.

"She's sweet on yer ass baby brother," Merle added. Merle was enjoying clearly enjoying himself now and since Daryl had just gotten finished sticking his nose in Merle's love life he could hardly complain about Merle commenting on his business, or lack of business as the case might be.

"You don't know shit," Daryl shot back. Carol wasn't sweet on him. Or if she was, she certainly hadn't given any indication of it.

"Do so know shit," Merle informed him, "Cause River fucking tole me what the mouse been saying 'bout ya."

The mouse was Merle's pet name for Carol. Merle never called anyone by their real name if he could help it, preferring to use nicknames he made up for them instead. The expection to this rule was his daughter Harley, who would bust his ass six ways from Sunday if he didn't use her proper name. Once in a while he would still refer to her as Angel, but not when she was around to hear him. Carol was mouse because her hair was grey like a mouse and she had a funny way of scurrying around that reminded Merle of the rodent in question.

All of the sudden Merle could tell he had Daryl's full attention. He had suspected that Daryl had a thing for the mouse, but now he knew for sure. And River had already blabbed her mouth to him, repeating all the stuff Carol had said about Daryl. The two of them were a fine pair of idiots, at least in Merle's opinion. They both liked each other and they were wasting a lot of time dancing around about it. Time that could be much better spent banging it out in some abandoned corner of the prison. They could always hammer out the details later, pun intended.

"What'd she say 'bout me?," Daryl asked.

"Thought I didn't know shit?," Merle taunted, repeating his brother's words back to him. Daryl huffed some air out through his nose like a dragon and forced himself to turn away and watch the last few walkers make their way through the hole in the fence. Merle would either tell him what River said or he wouldn't. Daryl wasn't going to beg. Besides, he knew Merle would never give up a prime opportunity to run his loud mouth.

"Said she wants that dick but she's afraid you don't like her 'cause she looks like an old grandma and shit," Merle told him after pretending he wasn't going to tell for about five whole seconds.

"She don't look like a gramma," Daryl grumbled. While he didn't care for the comment, he understood the insult about Carol's looks had come from the woman herself and wasn't Merle's personal opinion of her. Young or old, any pussy was good pussy as far as Merle was concerned. Daryl turned and eyeballed his brother. "Ya sure 'bout this?," he asked, "If yer pulling my leg I'm gonna beat yer fuckin' ass Merle." Merle snickered at that, but made no move to take back his earlier statement.

"The only biters left are the ones caught on the fence," Merle said, pointing and turning the conversation back to the mission at hand. He jumped down from the bed of the truck and they headed across the parking lot together. Since the walkers were stuck, there was no reason for Daryl to use his bow. They just crept up and stabbed them through the fence. Merle patted him on the back once they were done and they walked back to their truck together. Merle climbed into the driver's seat. Daryl expected him to head back to the prison, but after a few right turns Merle took a wrong one, heading down the street towards a small outdoor mall. Before Daryl could make a complaint or start asking questions, Merle explained himself.

"Just got a quick stop to make 'fore we go back."

 **** This chapter contained lyrics from the song Highway 20 Drive by the Zac Brown Band. I altered them slightly to fit, but they are still similar enough that I thought I should give credit. ****


	25. Chapter 25

Red River Blue

Chapter 25

"Why the hell do you have so many wigs in here?," Carol asked, tossing more items out of a tuperware container and onto the bed inside River's camper. She didn't know why anyone would need so many wigs even in normal life, but at the end of the world they seemed especially useless. River laughed and pranced over, plucking up a platnium blonde one and flipping upside down to pull the wig on over her own darker hair.

"Forgot these were in here," River announced, "might have to wear this one later... with nothing else on." She turned her back to Carol and rotated her hips in what Carol could only guess was an imitation of what the woman planned on doing later while she was wearing the blonde wig. Carol started laughing and plopped down on the bed, sifting through the wigs and trying to imagine how silly she might look in one of them. There was even a hot pink one that was cut into a bob. Carol considered it for about two seconds before tossing it into the pile on the bed.

"What are we looking for in here anyway?," Carol asked once she had control over her laughter.

"My red velvet bag," River reminded the woman. She glanced down at Carol's feet and let out a shriek of excitment. There, peeking out from under the bed, was the corner of the red bag in question. River ripped it out from under the bed and sat down on the bed next to Carol to start digging through it. She tossed the unwanted items onto the bed behind her, leading Carol to quickly understand why River could never find anything without looking for it for at least twenty minutes. She would probably misplace her own head if it wasn't attached to her neck.

Finally River found what she was looking for and she gave Carol a big smile before she handed the items to her. Carol looked down at the lacy garments in her hands. It was a matching bra and panty set. Both pale pink lace. The bra wouldn't offer much coverage or support, it was something clearly made only to be worn for a short time before it was removed by a chosen partner. The panties were cut like a pair of boy shorts and like the bra they were shear enough that her skin would show through. Carol had never owned or worn anything like them before in her life. Ed barely let her spend money on things she actually needed, let alone something to wear just so she could feel pretty.

"What am I supposed to do with these?," Carol asked. River giggled like the question was the funniest she had ever heard.

"Wear them for Daryl," River told her. The shocked look on Carol's face made River second guess her gift. She had only wanted to make Carol feel better about herself, not to embarrass her or make her feel bad. River always felt more confident when she knew she had on something sexy on under her normal clothes. She thought the pink panties and bra might do the same for Carol. Plus she knew Daryl was partial to pink panties. Merle liked to tease him about it.

"I've never worn anything like this before," Carol admitted in a voice that came out sounding like someone else's voice. Someone small and scared that she thought she had left behind down in the tombs when she almost died there. River wrinkled up her face, making the crook in her nose look even more crooked than normal.

"You were married," River asked, "didn't you ever dress up for yer husband?"

River knew by now that Carol's husband had been abusive, but she figured at some point towards the beginning of their relationship they must have been in love. She used to dress up for Merle all the time, especially when they were first married. She remembered one time that Merle gave her money to go shopping for new clothes at the mall out of some army bonus he got and she had spent every single penny on lingerie. Harley had still been small enough for River to wear her around the mall in a soft little carrier that strapped on like a backwards backpack, which would have made River about sixteen or seventeen at the time. When she got home with nothing but a bag full of sexy underwear and new baby clothes for Harley, Merle had laughed like crazy and told her next time she ought to get herself a new dress so he could take her out to dinner.

Carol shook her head, hanging it down lower and balling up the items in her hands. "If Ed ever saw me wear something like this he would have either told me what a fat cow I was or beat the shit out me for acting like a whore."

River leaned in, wrapping her arms around Carol and hugging the other woman to her chest. Carol went stiff for a moment and then she was hugging River back, the pink panty outfit sandwiched between their bodies.

They held each other tight, and for the first time in a long time Carol felt understood by someone. River didn't cock her head and give that same judgemental look that Carol had gotten from the few female friends she had confided in over the years. The ones that all had the same attitude. Hit me once, shame on you. Hit me twice, shame on me. Like leaving her husband and starting her entire life completely over from scratch was as simple as changing her underpants. Once she felt Carol's tension start to ease, River leaned back and put her hand under the other woman's chin to lift it.

"You're not ugly. Ya sure ain't fat. And wearin' pink panties don't make you a whore," River told her. Carol thinking she was a whore would be funny if it wasn't so damn sad. She was practically a nun compared to River. River gathered up the bra and panties and put them back in Carol's hands. Then for good measure she turned and dug though the pile of underclothes on the bed behind her, plucking out a much skimpier outfit. A white lace thong and a matching white nightie that didn't leave much to the imagination.

"Now this one is a full on whore outfit," River announced with glee. She forgot this outfit was even in her camper and she liked wearing white, especially since she had a great tan going from working out in the garden. The nightie was going to look good with her blonde wig too. Damn good. Maybe she ought to take up actual whoring and start charging Merle to sleep with her. Money wasn't worth anything anymore but she figured he could pay her in chocolate. The thought of that made her giggle again.

Carol looked at the scandalous outfit River was holding up in front of her body, and then down at the much more demure outfit in her own hands, feeling silly now for almost having a full breakdown over a pair of pink lace underpants. Carol didn't think anything was ever actually going to happen between her and Daryl, but just in case it did she knew she would be happy to have something to wear that wasn't stained, torn, or fit for a granny.

"Thanks," she finally managed to squeak out. River dropped her nightie on the bed and leaned forward to hug Carol again. Her demons were different from Carol's but she wrestled with them just the same. She was about to suggest that what Carol really needed was a pink wig to go with her pink panties, but her train of thought was interrupted by a knock on the open door of the trailer.

"Mom!," Wren called out, "Dad's back!"

TWD

With the heavy weighted pillow sack slung over his shoulder and the metal sleeve on his arm, Merle came off looking like a cross between a bandit and some sort of deranged santa clause. He set the cloth bag down on their bunk and then gripped it by the bottom corner, dumping the contents out onto the rumpled blanket. What tumbled out was a giant tangled up pile of jewelry. From the looks of it, River guessed it wasn't costume jewelry either.

"What the hell is all this?," she asked, her face more amused than curious. The pile was almost too much for her eyes to take in all at once. Most of it was gold, but there were sparkling stones in all different colors. Earrings, rings and braceletes all tangled up with long roping necklaces and the pendants that hung from them. She cast another glance at Merle, her eyes lingering on his metal sleeve. "You a pirate now?"

Merle pursed up his lips and sneared at her. River said she wanted a goddamn new wedding ring. So off he went to some stupid jewlery store. The kind of place Merle couldn't have even afforded to step foot in before the turn. The problem was, once he was in there he had no idea what to get her. And the only person with him was Daryl, the only man in the world that was possibly more clueless about women's fashion than he was. The other two rings he had bought for River, she had gone with him to the store and picked them out herself. So he figured he would just grab everything in the place and she could pick out whatever she wanted and toss the rest out.

"You said ya wanted a new weddin' ring," Merle reminded her.

"A new ring, not the whole store," she shot back with an amused smile. She was teasing him a little, but he could tell by the look on her face that she was happy. She had only mentioned the ring once, weeks ago. He remembered about it, and little things that like were never lost on River. Once she got over her shock of staring at the large mounding pile of gold and jewels, she drifted into his arms and pressed her mouth to his, parting his lips with the tip of her tounge.

"What's all that?" Wren's voice came drifting in from the doorway. River reluctantly let go of her husband and turned towards her daughter. Carl was standing next to the girl and they had their hands locked together, fingers intertwined. That was new. River was happy for her daughter, but she also felt the small sad pull inside her. Like she wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. The constant conflicting emotions that came with being a mother. Wren was her baby. Watching her turn into a woman made River feel proud, but also a little sad. Her heart was full but her arms were empty. If this was normal life and not the end of the world, she might have given thought to having another baby. But with things as they were, she knew she was just going to have to learn to let go.

Merle had no such conflicting emotions. He glared at the boy that was clinging to his daughter's hand until Carl started to shift around nervously. He tried smiling at Merle, which only made the man give him an even dirtier look. Finally Carl made some lame excuse about needing to help his dad with something. He let go of Wren's hand and scampered off down the corridor. Merle grinned to himself until he realized River was giving him a dirty look. She raised an eyebrow at him and he just shrugged back at her. He didn't have to ask to know what she was thinking. _Be nice._ Wren didn't notice any of the subtle communicationt that passed between her parents. She was already on the bed, sorting through the large pile of sparkly wonderfulness.

River smiled at the girl, who was now holding up a long strand of pearls that was probably worth more than River's old car. Wren untangled the end of the strand from a diamond bracelet and wrapped them around her neck. River sat down on the bunk, staring at the pile and not even knowing where to start. She plucked a silver ring up from the pile. It caught her eye because it had a giant pink stone on it. She turned it around in front of her face, looking at how the stone caught the light. The stone was so big she didn't think there was any way it could be real. If it was she had no idea what sort of stone it might be. Maybe a diamond? She wasn't sure if diamonds came this big and pink.

"Daryl found that one there in a safe in the back room," Merle informed her, "pro'bly worth some loot." River nodded and slipped the ring over her finger. It was too big in her ring finger but it fit her middle finger just fine.

"Look, it fits," she teased, flipping Merle the bird with the giant stone sparkling on her finger. He shook his head and laughed at her. She took the pink ring back off, but didn't toss it back into the pile. It got set aside behind her hip so he figured she was keeping it. Wren was now wearing a ring on every finger including her thumbs, at least five necklaces and she had bracelets laddered up both of her wrists.

Merle leaned back against the wall and lit up a smoke, even though there wasn't supposed to be any smoking inside the prison. He smiled and watched River and Wren poking around at the pile on the bed, chattering to each other like two happy birds. Wren looked so much like her mother had at that age. The same age she was when they started sleeping together. Which was most of the reason he didn't like Rick's little shitbird kid hovering around his daughter. He remembered being a teenage boy. And the sorts of thoughts that had gone through his mind about pretty teenage girls. The last damn thing he needed was to become a grandfather before he was even forty. Looking like one was already bad enough.

River started sorting through the massive pile, setting aside things she thought she might want to keep and trying on rings to find one that fit the ring finger on her left hand. She set aside a pair of earrings with pale blue stones and a matching ring for Harley. River wasn't sure if her older daughter would want to wear them or not, but the stones were almost the exact color of Harley's pale blue eyes. As she shifted through the rest of the pile, River finally found it. A ring with a slim gold band and a stone that caught the light without being to big and awkward. The stone was clear and round with a little ring of smaller stones around it. She slid it on, finding that it fit her finger perfectly.

"Found one!," she announced as she held up her hand again, this time without the inappropriate gesture. River rose up from the bed and closed the small distance between her and Merle. Reaching out, she snatched up what was left of the cigarette he was smoking. He expected her to stomp it out, but instead she lifted her hand to her mouth and took a puff, blowing the smoke out slowly. She smiled at him and handed the cigarette back. Trying to look sexy and not start coughing her lungs out.

"Since when do you smoke?," he asked her, his voice low and rough. She had her body pressed up flush against his now, her head tilted back so she could look up at him. River tossed one quick glance back over her shoulder to make sure Wren wasn't paying them any attention. Then her hand snaked down between them, stroking him through the fly of his pants.

"There's plenty about me that you don't know," she teased. Merle shuffled his arms awkwardly. He only had one good hand, and he was holding a lit cigarette in it. Finally he gripped the smoke with his teeth and shot his hand down, grasping River's wrist and pulling her slim fingers away from his growing erection. She wasn't playing fair, grabbing at him like that when their daughter was only a few feet away. Wren was showing no signs of leaving their room anytime soon either. On the contrary, she was now halfway done organizing the pile of jewelry. Putting the earrings with their matches and lying the necklaces out so they weren't all tangled up.

River leaned in, giving Merle one more lingering kiss on the strong line of his jaw. Then she spun around.

"Hey Wrennie?," she asked, her voice high and upbeat. Her mommy voice, the one she used to talk to the girls when they were little toddlers. She didn't use it on Harley anymore, but Wren was still young enough she didn't seem to mind it yet. Merle smirked, River reminded him of an overgrown cheerleader when she talked like that. "How 'bout I help you take this stuff into _your_ room and then you can show it to all your friends?" All your friends consisted only of about three other girls that happened to be around the same age as Wren. But that did not diminish the girl's excitement.

"I can have all this?," Wren asked. River nodded, laughing at the excited look on her daughter's face. Wren looked about like it was christmas and easter and her birthday all rolled into one. Like it was the best day of her life. River thought moving the jewelry would take them a few trips, but Wren gripped the bottom of her shirt and pulled it out like an apron. Not caring if she would have to organize all of it over again, she started scooping the items up and dumping them into the pocket made by her outstretched shirt. She left only the few items that River had set aside for herself and Harley. Once Wren was done, she set of racing down the hallway calling for Mika, the large bundle swinging in front of her like a kangaroo pouch. Behind her, she left a sparkly trail of the few items that slipped out through a tiny hole in her shirt.

 **** Big thanks to all the readers that have left me a review - QueenDisney, RandomMoonshadow, The 5 of spades, Kabrinastar, Shannon143, angelicdg, RazorMyRamona, DarylDixon'sLover, linnterr, MiliMaddoxDixon, blackcat711, blueberrry and also my guests (also known as people like me that are often too lazy to log in to their accounts). I try not to leave a lot of author's notes since I like to have my stories read like actual book, but I really do appreciate all the views and the reviews, you are all wonderful! ****


	26. Chapter 26

Red River Blue

Chapter 26

Glenn woke to the sensation of Maggie shifting under the blankets next to him. With a sleepy sigh, she rolled away from him and hiked one long leg up, trying to find a comfortable spot on their lumpy makeshift mattress. He reached over, sliding his hand over her body, gently rubbing her back. She hummed, turning back over to face him as he roused her from her dreams.

"I can go with you today," she mumbled after Glenn kissed her good morning like he did everyday.

"You don't have to go," he reminded her, "you should stay." He didn't have to say why. They both knew her period was late. She might be pregnant. In the middle of the end of the world they might both become first time parents. Suddenly he found himself thinking of her as a fragile flower that needed to be kept safe inside these high walls instead of a partner that could be trusted to watch his back. The urge to protect her was burning hot inside his chest.

"Makes me nervous, thinking about you alone out there... with him," Maggie admitted.

Her voice was still thick with sleep but her eyes were alert, scanning Glenn's face for his reaction. Glenn simply nodded and kissed her again. He knew she was talking about Daryl's brother. The formerly open hostility between Glenn and Merle had cooled. Mostly because they lived in different cell blocks and avoided each other. But Glenn still didn't trust the man. He already knew Maggie shared his sentiments. She didn't enjoy the thought of her husband being out on a run with someone that might be willing to sacrifice Glenn to save his own skin.

"I won't be alone," Glenn said, one hand gliding up the length of her neck and twining into her soft brown hair. Plenty of people were going on this run, including Daryl. Glenn trusted Daryl, though lately he had been seeing less and less of the man since he was often gone on hunting trips with his brother or his neice.

Glenn didn't like Merle. He didn't trust him. He assumed they were nothing alike and that it would never be possible for them to find any common ground. He spoke quietly to Maggie about his concerns, trying to ease her fears. The irony in this was that the man they were whispering about was in his own cell in the next cellblock over, having and almost identical conversation with his own wife.

River lifted her head up, regretting it immediately. She groaned and dove back into her pillow. Merle chuckled under his breath, shifting closer to her. He felt a strange tickling on his lower back which he quickly assumed was either a giant hairy spider or one of the many rats that had taken up residency inside the safety of the prison. Letting out a loud grunt, he trashed around under the covers, smacking at the furry trespasser. It wasn't until he heard River giggling that he realized he was wrestling the long blonde wig she had been wearing the night before.

"Fuckin' hell," he swore, tossing the offending hairpiece across the cell. It hit the wall and slid silently to the ground.

"Never gonna get the tangles outta that thing now," she said, laughter still present in her voice.

"Look betta without it," Merle informed her, grasping her by her slim waist and pulling her body flush against his. She smiled as she kissed him, leaving a hot trail down the cords of his neck.

"That's not what ya said last night," she teased. She had been wearing that blonde wig and some of the jewelry Merle had brought back for her from his run. And not much else. She didn't remember hearing any complaints.

Merle's only response to her teasing him about the night before was to claim her mouth with his, turning her giggles into low moans. His hand moved from her waist down to the curve of her hip, gripping her thigh and pulling it up and over his hip so her ankle was dangling down behind him and her legs were spread.

"If we're doin' this we better do it quick," she whispered into his ear, sucking and nibbling at the tender flesh there, "we got that run to go on today, Sasha said yesterday she wanted to get an early start..."

"There is no we," Merle told her, "yer staying here." He was as firm as he could be with his words considering that the tip of his dick was pressed against the slick folds of her opening. The urge to agree with anything she said was almost overpowering. He could smell himself on her skin and in her hair.

River shifted her hips, rolling both their bodies so she was pinned under the weight of him. He adjusted his body so he was carrying most of his weight on his elbows instead of smashing against her chest. Her legs spread wider as her hands gripped his hips, pulling his hard length inside her as deep as he could go.

They did as she suggested, pumping into each other hard and fast until they were both satisfied and out of breath. River curled into him, snuggling into her favorite spot. She liked to rest her head on his chest with one leg and arm slung across the solid mass of his body. Sleep would come easy to her in that moment. It always did after she orgasmed. But she only allowed herself to close her eyes for a moment. Then she snaked her hand back from across Merle's chest to scrub the sleep from her eyes. The discussion they had been having before they got distracted with each other's bodies was still fresh in her mind.

"I can go," she insisted, "I can handle myself." River didn't like bringing up the fact that she and the girls had made it alone for over a year by themselves. But she wasn't some frail creature that needed to be protected behind these high walls. And sometimes she felt Merle needed to be reminded of that. She didn't want him to think of her as a burden, she wanted him to think of her as a partner. An equal. Someone he could depend on. And the truth was, she was feeling a little stubborn. River didn't like Merle thinking he could boss her around and tell her where she was going and where she wasn't.

"Hey," Merle said. He brought his arm up, realized it was the one that ended in a scarred and mishappen stump, put it back down and reached around her at an awkward angle to get his fingers under her chin. He tilted River's head back so he could look at her face. He had known her a long time. And the indignant tone in her voice had not escaped him. "Ain't like that," he told her.

"What is it like then?," she asked. Looking at his face, it was hard to remember why she had been so mad only seconds ago. Merle's eyes were so blue. It had been a few days since he shaved his face, resulting in a sexy bit of scruff on his face. The hair on his head was getting longer than he usually let it get too. She knew he hated his curly hair as much as Harley hated hers, but River loved it when his hair got just long enough that she could twine the tight sponge of his curls around her slim fingers.

"Fer one I don't like leaving Wrennie here by herself," Merle admitted.

"And fer two?," River asked. She looked up at him through the thick dark lashes that rimmed her hooded eyes. The hair around her face was sun streaked and she had a patch of faint freckles across the crooked bridge of her nose that were only visible because she had been out in the sun the day before. Last night she had been dressed up for him in her wig and her barely there nightie, looking like a wet dream. But he liked her best like this. Fresh and wonderfully mussed from the sex they just got done having.

"Fer two...," Merle said, pausing a moment to make sure he didn't blurt out any sort of stupid bullshit and piss River the fuck off. This was a difficult subject. One he didn't care much for talking about. But he wanted to make sure she didn't think he was patronizing her. If there was one thing that would piss River off in a hurry, it was her feeling like she was being coddled and treated like a helpless little girl. Some of that came from her having been so young when they got married. She always felt like she had to prove to herself and everyone else that she could stand on her own two feet.

River saw the change in his face. Merle stopped smiling at her. His eyes went glossy and suddenly she knew he had gone somewhere she couldn't follow. "Shoulda been there for ya. Can't go back and do it over. Lemme do it now," he said. He came back from wherever he had gone, his eyes focused on hers like beaming headlights. "Let me take care of you..."

River nodded, unable to speak because she was afraid her emotions would start pouring out of her. She ducked her head against Merle's chest, hugging him fiercely tight and swallowed the lump in her throat.

"I can do that," she agreed. And she could. She would rather be out there. Fighting the good fight along side her husband. But that was what she wanted. Not what he needed. It wouldn't kill her to stay here instead. Keep an eye on Wren and find something useful to do around the prison. She didn't understand until this moment how truly guilty Merle felt about everything that had passed between them over the years. He had her forgiveness. The truth was he had that almost the moment she had seen him again, though it had taken her a while to admit it. But he needed to forgive himself. More than anything in the world she wanted them to be happy. She wanted to give him what he needed. She could let him take care of her. It didn't sound so horrible. Being taken care of.

"Thank you," River said, her emotions now back under her control, "for goin' out there so I don't have to." She slid up his body and pressed her lips to his. "I love ya." She felt the rumble of Merle's chest as he snorted out one almost silent chuckle.

"Love ya too sugar," he growled into her hair. He didn't say it often and almost never initiated the verbal exchange. Maybe that was why hearing him say the words still make her feel butterflies in her stomach. River pressed one more soft kiss to his cheek, knowing that if it went any further, neither of them were going to be going anywhere today. She forced herself out of bed, kicking her things around the cell until she found her bra and underpants. Merle's clothes were in two neat folded piles on top of the bunk. Her things looked like a giant closet monster had swallowed them and then barfed them out all over the room.

Merle thought about reminding River that if she put her things away, she wouldn't be wasting so much time every damn morning looking for them. But then again, the more time it took her to find her clothes, the more time he got to lie in bed and watch her shuffle around their cell wearing nothing but her birthday suit. She kept bending down too, sorting through the mess and giving him an even better view of her taunt backside and little peeks at the cleft between her legs. Once she had located her bra and underpants, she pulled them on and smiled over at him.

"Ya know Harley ain't going for any of that," River said, "she's gonna go on the run rather ya want her there or not." Merle chuckled, finally forcing himself out of bed. He knew full well that Harley was going on the run. In fact, he had been looking forward to spending some time with her.


	27. Chapter 27

Red River Blue

Chapter 27

"Like a damn romance novel," Daryl announced.

Zach was making a big public show of saying goodbye to Beth. As thick as the kid was laying it on her, it was clear they hadn't slept together yet. While the little display of affection was mildly amusing, Daryl was actually feeling a little confused by it. For weeks now, he had been noticing Zach fluttering around his neice Harley like a bee to a flower. Now all of the sudden he was kissing Beth in front of everyone. Including Harley.

Harley swung open the car door, tossing her pack into the backseat. Daryl watched her to see what her reaction to the kiss would be. She was good at keeping her emotions hidden. It always made Daryl feel good to think that they were a little alike in that way. The girl certainly didn't get her composure and self control from either of her loud mouth parents, that was for certain. Maybe she had gotten it from him. Harley was trying to act like she didn't care about Beth and Zach, but she cast one more glance their way before she climbed into the car, the corners of her mouth twisting up into a smirk. Daryl became aware that he had been expecting a very different response from the girl. He had assumed she might be upset. In that moment, Daryl also realized that Zach's story about splitting his lip by tripping over a chair was complete bullshit. Harley had busted his mouth up. If he was a gambling man, Daryl would bet his last pack of smokes on it.

Harley left the car door open, trying to fan out some of the hot air that had accumulated inside. Her dad swung the other door open and slid into the backseat next to her. Harley didn't speak to him but she did bob her head slightly to acknowledge his presence. Her mom leaned into the car to kiss him goodbye. They were kissing all nasty too, with their tounges in each other's mouths. Didn't they ever worry about germs? Harley rolled her eyes and leaned her head back against the seat, willing them to hurry up and knock it off. She heard her mother laughing and then she was poking her head into Harley's side of the car.

"Don't worry Rat, I got kisses for you too," her mother teased, grabbing Harley and planting as many kisses on her face as she could before the girl shoved her off.

"Mooooom," Harley moaned, "leave me alone and don't call me Rat."

Rat was a silly nickname held over from when she was a toddler. Her mother called her that because she said every time she turned her back, Harley would run like a rat. Some of the stories about her running away were sort of funny, but that didn't mean she wanted to be called by a baby name out in front of all the people she was trying to get to treat her like an adult.

"Sorry, sorry," River said. She gripped one of Harley's hands, pulling the girl up and out of the car so she could wrap her up in a tight embrace. "Be careful out there," River said, her voice turning serious as she stroked the wild little bits of curl that had escaped Harley's tight braid. Harley hugged her mother back in her unique way. Tight and fast, like she loved the affection but also wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.

"I'm always careful," she reminded her mom. Harley let go of her mother and brushed herself off like she was trying to rid herself of love germs. Then she climbed back inside the car, wondering where her sister was and why she wasn't outside slobbering all over everyone. Wren was probably with that boy again. Harley had already warned her sister to stay away from boys. They were nothing but trouble. But Wren didn't seem inclined to listen to her sister's sound advice.

"Yer momma still calls ya Rat?," Merle asked her. He was smiling to himself, the nickname bringing back memories he thought he had all but forgotten years ago.

"Not if she wants so live to see tomorrow she don't," Harley grumbled. That made her dad laugh and she had to fight back her own laughter. Her mom was so crazy sometimes. Who besides her mother would nickname their baby after a dirty rodent?

"Yer mom eva tell ya about the time ya ran away from her in Wal-Mart and broke a huge ass display of wine bottles?," Merle asked the girl. Harley shook her head, but really she was thinking that it depended on which time she ran away that her dad was talking about. She ran away a lot. And broke a lot of shit too. The time he was talking about, Merle had actually been there for that lovely incident.

Sasha fired up the engine of the car and started pulling out behind the truck in front of them while Merle told Harley the story. They stopped for a second to let Michonne climb into the backseat with them. She and Harley hugged and held onto each other's hands in the funny way that only women had of being physically affectionate without having it come off as sexual. To Merle's surprise, once she had greeted her friend, Harley encouraged him to continue on with the story.

Merle and River had come home to Georgia to visit River's mother. The day started out boring enough. They went to the store to buy some food so River could cook her mama dinner. He went along. Mostly because he River had a tight pair of white pants on and he wanted to look at her ass while she walked around the store. And let's be honest, he also wanted to make sure no one else was looking at her ass while she was shopping.

As soon as they got into the place, River made Harley promise to hold onto the shopping cart. In a fairly unsuprising turn of events, as soon as River took her eyes off the girl, Harley broke her promise and took off running. River should have put her ass in the damn cart in the first place, like Merle fucking told her to do about a thousand damn times. Now he was stuck pushing a grocery cart while his wife chased their daughter through the store yelling at the top of her lungs at the girl to stop running away from her. Of course that never worked. As soon as Harley knew she was being chased the little shit would just run ten times faster.

At some point Harley made a beeline for one of those little pink barbie jeeps and climbed inside. River stopped running, assuming that the battery inside the car wasn't hooked up. After all, what store employee would be stupid enough to leave a fully functioning barbie car out in the middle of the store for small children to drive around in? All Merle remembered clearly was hearing River cuss. Every filthy word she knew came flowing out of her mouth in a colorful stream of profanity as Harley tore out of the aisle in the barbie jeep like a goddamn nascar driver.

Harley cleared the first turn and headed down the main aisle of the store. By this time, River was running after her again, holding her breasts with one hand to keep them from bouncing out of her tank top as she hauled ass after her daughter. They both disappeared around the corner. The sound of a loud crash came next, followed quickly by the horrible sound of lots and lots of glass breaking all at once. Merle rounded the corner after them, walking into a scence of complete mass destruction. Harley had rammed straight into a display of wine. And apparently it was a rather flimsy display because the entire fucking thing knocked over and sent all the bottles crashing and smashing onto the hard linoleum floor.

River's mouth was hanging wide open, her eyes wide with shock. She wasn't even old enough to drink legally and she was standing in an expanding lake of what had to be thousands of dollars worth of alcohol. Harley was still stamping her little foot down on the gas pedal of the plastic jeep, the wheels spinning in the puddle of wine, splashing dark red staining liquid all over River and the display of dish towels behind her.

"Take yer purse," Merle hissed, shoving the pink leather bag into River's arms. She grabbed the bag, slinging the straps over her shoulder and looking down in horror at her new white jeans that were now peppered with dark red stains all the way up to her thighs. He grabbed Harley under her armpits and yanked her out of the little pink car. Merle carried her like a football, taking care to keep her legs out behind him because he knew the brat was going to try and kick him. She went for the balls too, even at that age. Grasping River by the soft fleshy part of her upper arm, he dragged her out of the store as fast as they could go without attracting any extra attention.

Michonne was laughing so hard by the time they got to the store that tears were running down her face. She had been hesitant to squeeze into the backseat of the small car with Harley and her father, especially since the man had a foul mouth and a habit of making the most innapropriate comments at the worst possible moments. But now she was glad she didn't ride over with Glenn and Zach. That had been the funniest story she had heard in a long time. And watching Harley try not to laugh while Merle was telling it was even more amusing.

"Are you going to stay awhile this time?," Harley asked the woman once she knew her dad was done embarassing her. She sort of liked hearing stories about when she was little. But now she was eager to change the subject from her years spent as a toddler. She missed Michonne and worried for the woman when she was out on the road alone. Harley had offered to go with her the last time. They even had an extra horse. But her mother had put her foot down over that.

"A little while," Michonne admitted. Carl had asked her the same question the moment she arrived back at the prison. She knew she finding the governor was a lost cause. His trail had gone cold weeks and weeks ago. Finding him would be like finding a needle in a haystack. A walker infested haystack. He was probably dead anyway. Looking for him was becoming less about finding him and more about having an excuse to be away from the prison. Away from the people she was coming to care about more and more. The more she started to care the more afraid she was that she was going to lose them just like she lost Andrea. Just like she lost her son.

TWD

Rick scooped up another bowl full of compost and tried not to laugh at the disgusted look on Wren's face. Her mother was making a similar face, but she had already backed away from the smelly pile. River didn't go on the run, so she had decided to make herself useful helping out in the gardens. In the gardens. Not in a pig pen with a bunch of stinky garbage eating animals.

"Are you sure pigs can eat worms?," Wren asked.

"Worms are good for ya," Rick told her, holding the scoop a little closer so she could get a better look at the wiggly insects. Wren eyed them with equal parts disgust and curiosity.

"Should take some out ta go fishin' with," River called over. She was squatting down by the peas, pulling out weeds and tossing them in a bucket. It was a beautiful day out. Fishing sounded like more fun that pulling weeds in the hot sun all day. And fried fish for dinner sounded like a nice change of pace from the venison and canned veggies they had been eating for the last four nights in a row. Rick nodded his approval, sending Carl and Wren running for a small bucket of dirt to put their worms in.

"Wanta go fishing today?," Rick asked the woman, shading his eyes with his hands. He had been on the fence about River when she first joined their group. She had looked familiar to him right from the start but he had been unable to figure out where he knew her from. He met a lot of people in his line of work and eventually wrote her off as someone he must have come into contact with when he was on duty. One night after dinner, Karen had put on some music. She and River were goofing around, dancing by the wash buckets while they cleaned up the dinner dishes.

The moment Rick saw River shaking her ass, his face turned beet red. He suddenly knew exactly where he recognized her from. That titty bar that Shane used to drag him to when he was fighting with Lori. That was where he saw River. She had been a lot blonder then, and not as thin. And wearing a lot less clothing. But he was sure it was her. Shane had a real thing for the woman. He liked to brag and say he nailed her, but Rick had his doubts about that. There was no way Shane Walsh would pay good money at the titty bar every weekend to see an ass and a pair of titties that he already saw for free.

Once Rick realized who River was, he started actively trying to avoid her. Knowing he had seen her mostly naked just made him uncomfortable. But since his son and her daughter were getting so close, they often ended up at meals or working on small jobs together. Despite her previous line of work and her odd attachment to Daryl's foul mouthed brother, a relationship that Rick would never even begin to pretend to understand, he had slowly decided that he liked River.

Rick didn't give his trust away easily, but River had a way of making the people around her feel comfortable. She was friendly and always quick to volunteer to help with anything that needed to be done. Most times she could be found helping Carol with the laundry and the cooking or stabbing walkers down on the fenceline with Karen. Judith liked her, and River often offered to watch the baby so Beth could have a break from her. At first Rick had kept a close eye on River when she had his daughter in her arms, mostly because she had a tendency to hand the baby off to Merle if he was around. But despite that, it didn't take Rick long to start trusting her. River had raised two babies of her own and that was obvious in the way she interacted with his daughter. She even taught Judith some simple sign language gestures so she could indicate if she was hungry or wanted to go outside. When his daughter heard River's voice or saw her, she would reach for the woman to pick her up. They were cute together.

"It's such a nice day out," River replied with a shrug of her shoulders. It was a nice day. And she was getting cabin fever being locked up behind these fences. Most days she kept busy enough that she didn't mind, but today it felt like all the trees in the woods were calling her. It would be good for Wren to get out too. River didn't want her to stay hidden so long that she would forget how to survive outside these walls.

The best way to get out was to go through the tombs. The kids were armed with their fishing poles and a bucket of worms, which Carl had very politely offered to carry. They also both had knives on them. River had her handgun and a small purple backpack on her back. There were sandwiches and bottles of water and a large flask of sweet tea inside. Rick had the gun on his hip that Hershel had insisted he take if he was going outside the walls and two more fishing poles for him and River to use. The kids were walking ahead, whispering back and forth. Carl shuffled his pole and bucket around, holding them both in one hand so he could have one hand free to hang onto Wren.

"They're cute," Rick said, keeping his voice low enough that his cute son wouldn't hear him and get mad that he was making such a comment.

"That's easy fer you ta say," River quipped, "yer the parent of the _boy_." Rick laughed, understanding what she was implying. River giggled along with him. Then she added, "Yer right, they're so dang-gone cute I can't take it." She really meant it too. So far the little romance between her daughter and Rick's son seemed innocent enough. River asked her daughter if they had kissed yet. Wren insisted they hadn't, but her face got so red River guessed either they had already kissed or Wren just really wanted to kiss him.

"You think I outta have a _talk_ with him?," Rick asked. He was partly kidding, but partly not. In the middle of the end of the world, having the birds and the bees talk with Carl had not been his top priority. And even back in normal life, Lori had always been the one that handled things like that. But River's joking comment had Rick thinking, he wanted to at least make sure Carl knew to be respectful. His son knocking up Merle's daughter was not a situation that he cared to deal with anytime soon. Or ever.

"You ain't ever had a sex talk with 'im?," River asked, feeling shocked. She had given Wren the basic talk a lot of years ago, back when Harley's pet cat got pregnant. The more detailed information came later, when Wren's body started developing. She had gotten pregnant when she was 14, mostly because she had no idea how to prevent pregnancy. River didn't want that happening to her girls.

"Do ya want me to talk to him?," River offered. Then a wicked smile spread across her face, making her nose look more crooked than normal. "I could see if Merle wants ta talk to 'im," she teased.

"I think I like my son the way he is," Rick joked back, "in one piece." River giggled. She had a contagious laugh. It was very high pitched, like a little girl's laugh, which was odd since her normal speaking voice was much lower.

The bright light of the outside world loomed up ahead of them. Rick flipped his flashlight off and River stopped laughing. Outside the walls, staying quiet meant staying safe. Carl and Wren waited at the exit for their parents to catch up. Rick went out first, with River close behind him. They scanned the area quickly, checking for walkers. There was one, shuffling towards them, but one walker was nothing to be alarmed about. Rick stabbed it through the eye with his knife and motioned to the kids that it was safe for them to come out.

River felt more afraid than she thought she would be. She had been right. It had been too long since she had been outside the fences. The next walker that they happened upon, River made sure to kill it herself. Using her knife, she came up under it's chin, stabbing up and back towards the stem of the brain. It dropped instantly. That made her feel better. She could alread feel some of the tension and fear leave her body.

People went back and forth from the prison to the small fishing lake often enough that there was a well trampled path for them to follow. Just in case, there were some markings spray painted on the trees that showed the way. River saw another walker. This one used to be a woman. She started off the trail after it, but before she could get too close the walker dropped to it's knees and started cutting at a half dead boar with a knife. River felt Rick's arm go around her waist. It was the first time he had ever really made any sort of body contact with her. He pulled her back and shoved her behind him, next to the kids. Then he approached the strange looking walker woman.

She was so filthy, just looking at her made River itchy. There was something smeared all over her face that looked like fungus. They had all lost weight since the outbreak but this woman was crack whore skinny. As soon as Rick started talking to the woman, River slung her pack down off her shoulder and dug out the sandwich she had packed for herself.

River didn't step in front of Rick, but rather reached around him to hand the foil wrapped package to the woman. The woman took it, but made no move to unwrap or consume the food. That made River uneasy. This woman had to be hungry. But she was just holding the sandwich like she wasn't interested in it at all. And there was no way River was taking her food back and eating it after this woman touched it with her dirty fungus hands. Waste of a good sandwich is what that was.

The woman asked them for help. She claimed her husband was back at their camp and needed medical assistance. That was never a good sign. River had her doubts, but she followed Rick when he decided to go with the woman. River did lean in close to her daughter and warn her to stay away from the strange woman. Then she took Wren by the hand and kept her close.

As they walked, Rick talked to the woman and asked her questions. It didn't take them long to get to the woman's campsite. The tent looked like it had been up a while, which made River more uneasy. She didn't like the idea that people were camping so close to the prison without them knowing about it. But more concening was that there was no husband to be found anywhere. River glanced into the tent, thinking maybe the sick man in question was sleeping or resting inside. The tent was empty. And there was only one sleeping bag inside. This whole thing stunk of some kind of trick.

River spun around with the intention of either confronting this crazy woman or telling Rick they needed to leave. But before the words were out of her mouth the crazy bitch lunged at Rick. She knocked him to the ground, trying to stab at him with a knife that looked even dirtier than she was. Wren screamed. Carl pulled out his knife, edging towards the struggling pair and looking unsure of what he was going to do. River fumbled for her gun, then changed her mind. She wasn't the best shot ever and she didn't want to hit Rick by accident. Instead she reached down and seized one of the fishing poles that Rick had dropped when the strange woman lunged at him.

"Hey bitch," River hollered at the woman. The woman looked up. River was gripping the fishing pole like a one of Harley's softball bats. She swung it so hard she could hear the air whistle as the long bendy switch cut across the open space. It slammed into the woman's face. River hit the woman so hard the pole broke as she was knocked backwards. Aiming for the ribs, River kicked the woman hard enough to roll her the rest of the way off Rick. Then River stepped on her throat, choking her. Rick scrambled to his feet, watching River and the woman that had tried to kill him. Just from what he had seen, he could tell this was not River's first fight. The woman slashed at River's leg with the knife that was still in her hands, but Rick was ready. He lunged, grabbing the woman's wrist and twisting it until she dropped her weapon. Then he tossed the dirty blade away from them into the woods.

"I can shoot her," Rick offered. River was still standing over the woman, crushing her windpipe with the sole of her scuffed pink converse sneaker. Choking her. The woman's legs were twitching. Rick knew she was close to death. He had killed his share of people since the dead started walking, but for some reason it was making him sick to watch River choke this woman to death. She might have been in a few fights before, but Rick doubted she had killed anyone. He didn't want her to have to do it. Rick put his arm around River's slim waist again, pulling her back. She tugged back for a moment but then allowed him to move her away from her intended victim. Without River stomping on her throat, the woman sucked in a ragged breath, gasping and coughing up splatters of blood. Then the side of her head exploded as a bullet from Rick's gun tore through it.


	28. Chapter 28

Red River Blue

Chapter 28

Aside from a small list of essential items, there wasn't much of a plan. Once they got inside the store, people scattered about pushing carts and gathering their personal items before going for the food and bottled water that was needed back at the prison. Merle took a deep breath. In through the mouth and out through the nose. He never thought he would see the day that he would miss the sadistic bastard otherwise known as Phillip Blake, but today was that day. Runs with the governor had been fast and organized. They would have cleared everything useful inside this store out in under a few hours and taken it all back to Woodbury.

The problem with the prison group is Rick had stepped down, yet no one had stepped up to take his place. It was like they were in a weird sort of limbo, waiting to see if Rick was really done being the leader or if he was just taking a break. Hershel was leading a small group that was at least trying to keep things organized around the prison. But all they did was talk. Not enough crops were being planted and not enough supplies were being collected. Winter would be on them before any of them knew it, and if they didn't get their act together soon everyone was going to spend it freezing and starving in their cells.

Merle grabbed a cart and followed after Harley, determined to keep an eye on the girl despite her protests about not needing a babysitter. She was loading crates of bottled water into the bottom of the cart she was pushing. When she stopped in front of a shelf full of feminine hygiene products he quickly lost interest in watching her and headed down the next aisle over. The people camping outside the store must have bit the big one pretty early on, because most of the shelves were still completely untouched. Merle pulled a box of canned vegetables off one shelf, balancing it rather awkwardly on his metal sleeve before thumping it down into his cart.

The deal River had originally made with Rick for half of whatever they got no longer stood, but Merle was thinking about stashing some shit away in her camper anyway. If things went bad at the prison this coming winter, he had every intention of getting his family the hell out of that shithole before people started eating each other. He hoped things wouldn't get to that point but preparing for the worst never hurt anyone. Right not it was simple math. Too many people and not enough resources.

Once his cart was loaded with as many canned items as it could fit, Merle pushed it down the aisle, just intending to get a quick look around the place before he took the items out and loaded them up in one of the cars. One quick turn of the cart and suddenly he was face to face with a wall of liquor. Whiskey, rum, tequila, gin, bourbon, scotch, even fancy flavored vodka, this place had it all. From top shelf expensive brand name down to the cheap crap that hobos favored.

He had kept it straight and narrow since he got River back. It had been easier than any other time that he had tried to stay sober before, mainly because there was little to no temptation at the prison. Days and sometimes even weeks had gone by when he didn't even think about drinking or using. Hershel didn't outlaw alcohol outright, but the man strongly discouraged drinking of any sort. Because of that, people drank on the quiet, up in the guard towers or in their rooms. Merle didn't have to see it.

Standing in front of his old friend Jack Daniels, Merle was feeling the need for a drink like he hadn't felt it in a long time. No one was watching him. They were all too busy smacking at cardboard cutouts with swords and playing with polaroid cameras. He could pick up the bottle and twist off the top, chug a few swallows down right here and now. Feel that burn slide down his throat and start a low fire down deep inside his belly. Make all his troubles and worries disappear like he never had a care in the world.

Licking at his lips, Merle swallowed hard suddenly noticing how dry his mouth was. He glanced up and down the aisle, making sure tattle tails number one and two, otherwise known as Harley and Daryl, were no where around. Then he grabbed for the bottle. Pinning it to his side with the elbow of his bad arm, he fumbled with the seal, trying to get the lid off.

Merle had the cap off and the wonderful liquid gold gurgling into his mouth by the time he realized what he was doing. Ruining everything is what he was fucking doing. He had promised River. He had promised the girls. But more than that he had promised himself that this would never ever happen again. And he hadn't made that promise for no reason.

The sobering thought of what might happen to River and his girls if walkers or hostile stangers came and he was to drunk to defend them brought Merle's short lived drinking party to a very abrupt hault. A few swallows had already gone down, but he spit the rest out onto the floor. He stared at the bottle in his hand, feeling the anger well up inside him. He was angry at himself. More pissed than he had ever been at anyone else before. He was angry about all the times he had gotten drunk and fucked things up, but mostly he was angry at himself for being weak. Plain and simple. For not having the self control to stop this years ago.

Liquor splashed his pants as the whiskey bottle shattered on the floor at his feet. But that wasn't enough. Merle brought his arm up above his head. The arm that had the metal sleeve over it. He lifted it into the air and slammed it down as hard as possible onto the shelf in front of him, sending dozens more bottles shattering down to the floor. The smell of alcohol burned his nose, filling the air around him. He cringed at the fumes, the thought that River was not going to be pleased with him when he came back reeking like alcohol briefly crossed his mind. But then a smell even more unpleasant filled his nostrils. The smell of death.

The place had been cleared of the dead. He and Daryl made sure of it before they brought more people here. But suddenly the walkers were all around them. People were screaming and gunshots started echoing off the walls. It took Merle a few moments before he realized part of the roof had given in and the goddamn dead bastards were falling right out of the ceiling. Raining down on them.

Not wanting to lose the food he had collected, Merle quickly turned and started pushing his cart towards the exit. He only made it a few steps before the shelf he had smashed fell the rest of the way in and came crashing down on top of him. The cart went sliding and squeaking down the aisle and he was brought down onto the ground, smashed under the heavy weight of the metal shelving unit.

Merle swore. He twisted and turned but he was stuck like a rabbit in a snare. With a grunt, he tried pushing up on the shelf but the angle was all wrong. He was slipping and sliding in the puddle of liquor under him, the skin on his back burning where he was was being cut by dozens of shards of glass.

"DARYL!" Merle screamed for the only person he thought might come to his aid. There was a half rotted walker shuffling down the aisle towards him and from his uncomfortable position it was going to be hard for him to kill it before it got to him. "Daryl!," he screamed again, "I need some fuckin' help over here!"

A boot splashed into the puddle next to his face, sending burning droplets of liquor into his eyes. His vision was hazy for a moment as he tried to blink and wipe the liquid away. It was not his little brother that had come to his rescue, it was Harley. One foot planted on either side of him, she leaned down and gripped the heavy shelf with her hands.

The leather riding gloves helped. Wearing them was a trick Harley had picked up from Michonne. But the corners of the shelf were still sharp. She ignored the pain, grunting as she used the strength of her legs to try and push the shelf up high enough for her father to slide out. Being a girl was frustrating. She was strong and she worked out to make herself stronger, but the shelf was still to heavy for her to lift alone. People were running in panic, screaming and heading for the cars instead of staying and fighting the walkers.

"Just go!," Merle hollered at her, "get out now."

"Shut the fuckin' hell up!," Harley screamed back at him with what little breath she had left. She adjusted her grip on the shelf, trying to pull it up from the top this time instead of lifting from the bottom. Her arms were shaking and her legs were burning, but suddenly the shelf got a whole lot lighter. The leather of a coat sleeve brushed her arm and she turned her head, expecting to see her uncle next to her. But it wasn't Daryl that had come to her rescue. Zach was next to her, his face red and his knuckles white as he yanked the shelf upwards of her father. Harley was so shocked she almost lost her grip.

"I'm loose!," Merle hollered. He was scared once he got up that his leg might not hold his weight, but he was free. Daryl had finally gotten around the pack of walkers he had been fighting off. Harley and Zach waited until he had pulled Merle all the way out from under the shelf before they dropped it. Daryl and Harley hauled Merle up to his feet.

"Can you walk?," Daryl asked, not waiting before an answer before he tucked his shoulder under his brother's arm to take some of the weight off his hurt leg. Harley shouldered in on the other side, trying her best to keep his metal sleeve from smashing her ear into her head.

Zach had his gun out, aiming it at the walker that was stumbling down the aisle towards them. It wasn't coming at them very fast since it was slipping and sliding on the wet floor under it's feet. Zach wasn't the best shot, but he knew he could get it if he took careful aim. He leveled his gun, aiming at the walker's head. Zach was so focused on the walker coming at him, he didn't notice the one above him that was hanging from the ceiling by it's intestines.

"Look out!" Harley yelled, "above you!"

She tried to warn him but it was too late. With a disgusting rip and a smatter of blood the walker tore loose and came flopping down from the ceiling, knocking Zach to the ground. It landed face down on top of him and wasted no time sinking it's rotting teeth into the soft flesh of his neck. Harley could hear someone screaming. It wasn't until Merle pulled her to his chest to muffle the sound that she realized it was her.

"Too late for him now," Daryl told her, "we got to go."

Harley sucked in a ragged breath, forcing her body and her emotions to come back under her control. Zach was still screaming on the floor near their feet as another walker joined the first one, tearing at his flesh with it's hands. Harley pulled out her gun and aimed it at the boy, popping off one shot into his brain to end his suffering. He wasn't her favorite person, but he still deserved better than to be eaten alive.

Daryl was dragging Merle down the aisle. One of his legs looked like it might be broken and there was a large shard of glass sticking out of his back. Ahead of them was the cart of canned food that had rolled away when the shelf fell. Harley wanted to help her dad, but she didn't want to leave the food behind. It seemed wasteful for people to have died on this run and for them to have nothing to even show for it.

"Get on the cart," she hollered. When both men looked at her like she was crazy she yelled, "ride it like Wren used to." When she was little, Wren got endless amusement from climbing onto the front of the cart facing backwards and having Harley or their mother push her around the grocery store. She had only stopped about a year ago, when she got so big she started tippping the carts over.

Seeing no other better option, Merle let go of Daryl and climbed onto the cart, leaning forward and gripping it with his one good hand to keep from falling off. The cart dipped a little under his weight but the heavy canned items it was filled with kept it from tipping over on top of him. Daryl rushed ahead, clearing out any walkers that were in their way. Harley grabbed the handle of the cart and pushed, her boots sliding on the wet floor a little before she got traction. Turning the corner took some effort but once she cleared it she saw the exit straight ahead.


	29. Chapter 29

Red River Blue

Chapter 29

Wren hovered in the doorway of the cell, one hand lightly gripping the bars as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Carol and her mother were picking over her father's body, trying to remove all the little shards of glass that had gotten stuck in him. His back looked like it had been attacked by a flock of angry pecking birds. Most of the cuts were small and would heal up on their own as long as they were kept clean. Only one long gash on the back of his shoulder blade needed more than antiseptic. Wren heard her momma saying that one was going to need stitches.

River ran her hand gently over the skin of Merle's back, feeling carefully to make sure all the glass had been removed. She was sitting on the edge of the bed near his head, his one good arm draped across her lap. His hand was resting on the small of her back, his thumb slowly stroking her back and forth through the fabric of her shirt. Carol left to fetch Hershel, stopping for just a moment to plant a kiss on Wren's head as she passed through the doorway. River wiped at a few of the minor cuts with an alcohol swab. She dabbed at them one at a time. Wiping gently, she leaned down with her full lips pursed and blew on them to keep the cuts from stinging while the alcohol dried.

She felt Merle's hand resting against her back, then he moved it down. Gripping the hem of her shirt, he raked it up a few inches, exposing a sliver of flesh just above the waistband of her jeans. She was sitting close enough that he only had to tilt his head back slightly to get his mouth on her. River felt the press of a soft kiss followed quickly by the nibble of his teeth.

"Aren't you supposta be injured?," she asked, trying not to squeak even though he was tickling her. He bit down a little harder and she made a funny high pitched noise that was somewhere between a shriek and the yip of a small dog.

"Merle! This ain't funny," she insisted. "Hershel's gonna be here in a minute so straighten up and behave yerself." There was a time and a place for him to be biting at her hip and this was certainly not that time. His laughter was silent, but River could feel the movement of his body as it gently shook. He was driving her crazy but she knew if he felt well enough to joke with her, it meant he probably wasn't too badly hurt. Merle gave her one more kiss on the side before he rested his head back down on his pillow. She felt his hand on the hem of her shirt again, pulling it back down this time. River cleaned up the last few cuts before she tossed the used alcohol swabs on the floor near her feet.

As she looked over his back, River was glad that her husband wasn't hurt worse. The new cuts would heal into scars that would soon blend into the jagged map of marks that covered his back. They had been together so long she knew the stories that went with the worst of them. On the shoulder opposite the new slash mark that was about to be fixed by Hershel was the wound from the bullet he had taken in Iraq. The bullet that got him discharged from the service. River traced the outline of it with the tip of one slender finger. The strap mark across his lower back was from the time he got caught stealing the lunch money at school. He hadn't been punished for stealing, just for getting caught.

They both grew up poor. Living in the same dumpy little trailer park. The kind of place where there were so many stray cats that the manager of the trailer park started setting traps out to get rid of them. But River's mother had never been abusive towards her. She had been gone a lot. Working overtime to keep food on the table. But she had always done the best she could by her daughter. Just like River always tried to do right by her girls even though she felt like her best was never good enough.

River traced the old faded scar with her fingers, letting them trail away and twine into Merle's hair. The old sad memories combined with her fear of what might have happened at that store if Harley and Daryl hadn't been there mixed together inside her heart. She didn't feel the tears coming, they just spilled out and ran down her cheeks before she could wipe them away.

"Oh mama," Wren said, "Don't cry." The girl crossed the small space between them and used the sleeve of the shirt she had tied around her waist to wipe at her mother's face. From where Wren was standing she could see onto the top bunk. The mattresses were stacked up on the bottom bunk, leaving the top open to be used as a shelf. And on it was the cupcakes Carol had scratched together the ingredients to make while they were out fishing earlier.

"Can we still give Uncle Daryl his cupcakes?," Wren asked.

"Oh hell," River moaned, "I forgot all about dinner and everythin'."

Beth was keeping track of the days with an old calendar she had hanging in her room. It wasn't exact, but at least they had some idea what month it was. And this month was May. Daryl's birthday month. River had casually mentioned something about it to Carol a few days ago. When River got back from fishing and traumatizing her daughter for life by killing some random woman in the woods right in front of her, she found a tuperware container of cupcakes on the top bunk in her cell. Assuming the run was going to go well, River had been thinking when the guys got back they might have a fish fry and stuff themselves with cupcakes while she teased Daryl about being a whole year older than she was. Now that was all pretty much thrown out the window. Having a party after a run where someone died and more people were hurt just didn't feel right to her.

There was a tap on the bars of the cell and River straightened up, wiping at her face. She smiled at Hershel and got up quickly, moving away from the bed to make sure he had room to work. Hershel used medical grade superglue to close up the wound on Merle's shoudler, deciding no one needed to know that the glue was actually veterinary glue meant for dogs and cats. The cut wasn't really that bad, Hershel was more worried about the man's leg. Merle rolled over and sat up. Hershel managed to keep a straight face while the man's wife and daughter fussed over him, stuffing pillows in behind his back to make sure he was comfortable.

Merle's pantlegs were already rolled up, since Carol and River had been checking him for pieces of glass. At the very least, the man's left leg was very badly bruised. Hershel prodded as gently as he could, checking the bones to make sure they weren't broken. Hershel noticed that Merle kept complete control over his facial features during the examination. River was hovering around near the head of the bed, her face twisted up like she was the one with the hurt leg instead of her husband. She even sucked in her breath when Hershel's fingers prodded gently into the darkest part of the bruise. Finally the woman apologized and turned her back to what was going on, unable to watch.

"Sometimes it's worse seeing someone you care about in pain than it is being in pain yourself," Hershel mentioned quietly. Merle finally showed some emotion on his face, giving the older man a little half smile before he reached back and caught River by the hand.

"S'alright honey," he assured her, "looks worse than it is." He sounded confident, but after he spoke his eyes flicked to Hershel for confirmation that what he said was true. Hershel signaled for the man to wait and let him finish before he got his answer, but so far it didn't look like anything was broken. The ankle was swollen, but Merle was still able to move his foot and wiggle his toes. Hershel longed for an X-ray machine. Much like he longed for a dozen other medical machines. Since the outbreak, he had developed a newfound respect for all the doctors that came before the inventions of modern technology.

"I think you are the proud owner of a very badly sprained ankle," Hershel announced. River turned back around, her relief showing plainly on her face. "But just in case there's a hairline fracture in your leg, I want you to take it easy for a few weeks. We have some crutches. I want you to use them and try to keep the weight off the leg as much as possible until the bruising and the swelling go down."

Merle looked about as excited to be using a pair of crutches as he would have been to wear a dress. On the other hand, River was looking like someone had just given her a new pet kitten wearing a pink ribbon with a chocolate bar tied around its neck. She rushed Hershel, almost knocking the older man off balance. River hugged him and thanked him profusely for his help, then hugged him again.

"Oh daddy," Wren gushed, finally unable to keep back and out of the way. She elbowed in past her mother and threw her arms around Merle's neck. "I just knew you were going to be alright," she added, hugging him so hard she made him cringe.

Carol had been hovering in the doorway, watching. As much as she tried to dislike Merle, she had become rather fond of the man. She was glad to hear his leg wasn't broken. And watching Wren and River fawn all over him in front of Hershel had made for some pretty good entertainment.

Hershel headed out as Carol came in. She and River hugged. Then Wren was up, wriggling between them. She hugged Carol, glanced towards the cupcakes and then looked up at the woman with what could only be described as hopeful puppy dog eyes. Carol reached for the container and handed them to the girl with a smile. Daryl didn't even know she had made the treats for him, so it wouldn't hurt him any if the kids ate them instead.

"Here sweetie, why don't you go ahead and have them," Carol suggested. Wren looked so excited it made Carol laugh. Wren ripped the lid off the tuperware. Carol expected her to start devouring the treats right away. That was what Sophia would have done. Since the threat of her dad showing up and taking things away from her was always looming, if Sophia somehow managed to get anything she wanted for herself she packed it in the moment she got her hands on it. But that was not Wren's way.

"One for daddy," Wren announced, pulling the first little cake out and handing it to Merle. She tried to give one to River, but her mom refused, insisting she could share with Merle. River didn't know what was going on with her. Usually she loved sweets. Especially cake. But her stomach had been off lately. Cake just didn't sound good to her. Plus she wanted Wren to have some left to share with her friends.

"This one is for Uncle Daryl," Wren said, lifting another cake out and placing it carefully into Carol's custody. Then Wren went prancing out of the cell looking for Harley, leaving her parents smiling after her and Carol staring down at the cupcake in her hands that was meant for Daryl.


	30. Chapter 30

Red River Blue

Chapter 30

Once he had safely delivered his injured brother into River's custody, Daryl made himself scarce. While the gore that came with hunting and skinning animals never bothered him, seeing blood from an injury turned his stomach. He knew watching Carol and River pluck chunks of glass from Merle's already scarred back would be especially hard for him. Seeing that would bring back memories of his childhood that he would rather never think about again. Mostly images of his brother lying face down on his bed, unable to even put a shirt on because his back looked like raw hamburger meat. Daryl remembered sitting next to him on the bed, waving a tattered magazine back and forth to try and keep the flies off.

Stopping in the doorway of Harley's room, Daryl noticed she was also making herself scarce. Not only was Harley's bedside manner in need of some serious work, she didn't like seeing blood anymore than Daryl did. He observed her with a practiced eye, trying to see if she was alright after what she had to do for Zach back in that store. The girl seemed alright, but Harley was a hard nut to crack. If she was upset, she wasn't showing it in any way that Daryl could see.

"Someone's gonna hafta tell Beth," Daryl announced. Whatever was going on between Zach and Beth didn't seem overly serious, but Daryl still thought someone ought to tell the girl before she overheard other people talking about it or realized Zach was dead when he never showed back up.

"Don't look at me," Harley told him. Daryl cocked his head at her. Beth was her friend, it would be better for the girl to hear it from Harley rather than him. He barely spoke to her. "I already had to do the heavy liftin', shooting his dumbass back at the store," Harley added with a little more attitude in her voice, "You want someone to talk to Beth, do it yer damn self." With that Harley strode over and yanked the curtain shut across the doorway of her cell. The prison teenage equivalent of slamming the bedroom door shut.

Daryl stayed glued in place for a moment, staring at the dingy white fabric that was now hanging only a few inches away from his face. He thought about yanking the fabric back open but quickly decided he liked his balls the way they were. Harley could be a lot like Merle when she got angry. Eager to take her anger out on the next person that provoked her whether they deserved it or not. He had no desire to be that person.

Finally stepping away from the closed curtain, Daryl almost bumped straight into Carol. She skirted around him, only nodding a greeting before she hurried off to wherever it was that she was going. Probably off to find Hershel. Merle didn't trust that other doctor, despite the fact that he was an actual doctor instead of a vet. He preferred to deal with Hershel for any medical care he might need. While Merle was not above making racist derogatory comments about Dr. S, Daryl had a feeling that his brother just really felt more comfortable with Hershel because like him, the older man had also lost a limb. Hershel was less likely to view Merle's missing hand as a possible weakness.

Daryl walked as slowly as possible, putting off the unpleasant conversation he was about to have as long as humanly possible. He paused near the doorway of Beth's cell. She was lying on the bed, writing in her diary. Daryl turned around, suddenly feeling the strong need for a cigarette. He sucked his smoke down to the filter, then forced himself to go back in and face the girl. She would be upset, but more than that Daryl knew he was going to be disappointed. In him. He was in charge of the run. He had picked the location and scouted it. It was his fault Zach died. And everyone knew it. Even Beth.

To Daryl's surprise, Beth didn't cry or have the nervous hysterical breakdown he had been picturing in his mind. She said she had been happy she got to know Zach while he was alive. Then oddly enough, she asked Daryl how he was doing. It had been so long since anyone asked him that, he wasn't even sure what to say. Was he alright? He sure as fuck didn't feel alright.

Beth stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his middle. She laid her head on Daryl's chest and hugged him. Daryl stiffened up at first, scared she thought something romatic might be going on between them. But then he saw Beth for what she really was. Not some weak blubbering emotional mess. And certainly not some sex crazed teenager that was trying to throw herself at the first man that came along just because her boyfriend was dead. She was more of a mini version of her father Hershel. Kind and intutitve with enough love to share even with the likes of Daryl.

Daryl relaxed into the girl, not just letting her hug him but actually hugging her back. He rested his chin on her head, feeling some of the tension of the day finally release from his body. Beth hugged him tight one more time before she wriggled away. Then she reached over and patted him on the shoulder.

"I didn't mean to be all touchy," she said, a embarassed smile creeping across her face, "but you really looked like you needed a hug."

"S'alright," Daryl assured her, "I think maybe I did." While he had no romantic feelings for the girl, it did feel good to be reminded that people here cared about him. He was not going to be ostracized or blamed for anything that happened on the run today. Zach died because it was dangerous out there and despite all the precautions and best intentions, sometimes people just died.

Daryl walked back towards his cellblock, feeling like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders. As he passed a large trash barrel, Daryl stopped to peek inside. It was an old habit, held over from when he was a kid and sometimes got so hungry he was forced to pick from trash cans to eat. That was before he made friends with River and started eating dinner at her house. They had been so young he remembered River pulling a kitchen chair into the kitchen to stand on it while she made them grilled cheese sandwiches. He thought River's mother would throw his trashy ass out once she caught him in her house eating her food, but it had been completely the opposite. She had been happy he was there, so River didn't have to be alone.

Most of the stuff in the trash can looked like regular nasty garbage. In the new world, people were not as wasteful as they had been back before the outbreak. But on top Daryl saw something strange. It looked like someone had thrown an entire frosted cupcake into the trash.

TWD

Carol looked down at the cake in her hands. A bit of the pink frosting had smeared across palm. She felt like the cupcake was staring up at her. Mocking her. Merle cleared his throat in a loud coughing bark, shaking Carol out of her own thoughts. She glanced over, realizing that River and Merle were waiting for her to leave their cell so they could be alone. He had a little smear of frosting in the corner of his mouth that River leaned in to wipe away with the tip of her finger. They were already kissing by the time Carol backed out of the doorway and pulled the curtain shut.

She passed by Daryl's room, which was the next cell down after his neices' room. Carol peeked in, thinking for a moment about just setting the cupcake on his bunk and leaving it there. But looking at the rumpled bed where Daryl slept gave her a warm tug deep down in the pit of her stomach. She wondered what would happen if she just laid down on his bed and waited for him to come back. What if she took off her clothes first?

The sexual thoughts that crossed her mind had Carol looking down to assess her appearance. She was dirty. Her shirt had blood on it, among other things. And her underwear were of the filthy used-to-be-white-once granny variety. She was not prepared for a sexual encounter. Not with Daryl. Not with anyone.

Carol didn't let herself stop and overthink things. She hurried up to her room. Setting the cupcake down, she peeled off her clothes and tossed them in a pile in the corner of her cell. After a quick wipe down of the more vital parts of her body with some baby wipes, she looked over her wardrobe choices. This didn't take long. She only had about two pairs of pants and three shirts to choose from. And only one pair of underpants that weren't fit for an eighty year old nursing home patient. The pink lacy ones that River had given her.

One deep breath and Carol pulled them on. Followed quickly by the bra and then her clothes. She made sure not to look at herself in the underwear, afraid she would lose her nerve if she did. The clothes she had on didn't look much more flattering than the ones she had taken off. At least they were clean, which was a slight improvement over being covered in dried blood and smelling like disinfectant. Carol wished she had taken some of the clothes River was always trying to give her.

Snatching the cupcake back up, Carol headed to Daryl's room first. Checking it again to see if he was back yet. She thought about lying down on the bed and waiting for him, like she had pictured. But she knew if she had to wait more than a few seconds, she would lose her nerve and end up running back to her room. It was now or never.

"He went to talk to Beth," Harley told her, the muffled announcement coming from inside the girl's cell. She could see Carol standing in front of her Uncle's cell through the crack between the curtain and the wall.

"Thanks," Carol answered back. She spun on her heels and headed off towards the other cell block. As she walked she tried to think of what she was going to do or say. Waiting for Daryl to come on to her was like waiting for a watched pot to boil. She was tired of waiting. After what happened on the run earlier, Carol was more determined than ever to finally let Daryl know how she felt about him. Since Sophia died, Carol had made her peace with the fact that she was going to die too. Probably sooner rather than later. And she didn't want to die with regrets and a heart full of unspoken feelings.

Carol decided to keep it simple. Daryl was a simple man. She was going to give him the cupcake and tell him happy birthday. Then she was going to kiss him. If he shot her down, then he shot her down. At least she could say she tried. She didn't allow herself to think of the other outcome to the situation. To think of what might happen if he kissed her back. The very idea of what might happen already had her breathing harder than normal. Her hands were shaking.

Beth's room was down in the corner, the quietest area of the cellblock becsause Judith usually napped in Beth's cell and also slept in there at night more than Rick cared to admit. A few more steps and Carol would be able to see him. And see him she did.

Carol stopped, her legs locked and her feet felt like they had suddenly stuck to the floor. Daryl was there. Right where Harley said he would be. But he wasn't talking to Beth. He was holding her. Hugging her in his arms like they were a lot more than friends. Holding her in a way that he had never tried to hold Carol. Not in all the time she had known him.

She felt the tears starting to well up in her eyes. The fact that she was crying made her feel weak and feeling weak made the anger start to swell up inside her. She cursed herself, wondering how she could have been so stupid. Before she realized what she was doing, Carol's legs were carrying her swiftly back to her own cellblock. Back to her room so she could shut the curtain and muffle her sobs into her pillow. As she walked through the outer door, Carol hurled the cupcake into the large trash can they kept there.

In her room, Carol must not have been crying as silently as she thought she was. Because after a few minutes, she felt a hand on her back. She turned and looked up, hoping deep down in her heart of hearts to see Daryl standing there, ready to comfort her. But it was River's younger daughter Wren. The girl rubbed her back and then shoved Carol over so she could climb into bed with her.

"Do you miss your baby girl?," Wren asked.

Carol didn't want to tell Wren the real reason why she was crying, so she simply said, "yes, I do miss her. I miss her everyday." While Sophia was not the reason she was crying, what Carol said was true. She did miss her daughter everyday. Sometimes being with River's girls helped, and sometimes it made her miss her Sophia even more.

"You have us," Wren assured her, "and we love you."


	31. Chapter 31

Red River Blue

Chapter 31

The fear of being eaten by undead cannibals was a constant in all of their lives now. It wasn't always in the forefront of their minds, but it was always there. Lurking in the shadows of River's mind like the walkers that crept along the fencelines. Constantly present even if her thoughts were heavily occupied with another task. But now the fear of something new had taken hold. They were afraid of each other. Afraid to touch, afraid to hug, seized with a fear close to panic if another person even breathed too close. God forbid if someone swallowed wrong and started coughing.

Everyone had a theory about the sickness that had killed twelve of their own. The one doctor they had said he thought the sickness might be some form of fast acting influenza. Bob said it might be bacterial. Hershel said it didn't matter what it was, only that they stopped it from spreading. All River knew was that she had spent the day burying people that she had come to think of as part of her new extended family. Children were left without parents and parents were left without children. At the end of all that, she was simply grateful that her own family had been spared. And that made her feel like a horrible selfish person.

At first it seemed like the few people that died might have been the only ones that had been infected. But not long after those bodies were in the ground, both Karen and David started coughing. River had spent most of the day pacing around and spraying at every possible surface with a strong toxic smelling mixture of bleach and water, wishing she could do something more to help. Wren and Mika were sitting on the floor outside the cell that Wren and Harley shared, trying to play a board game that was missing half the pieces. River squatted down, reaching over to press the inside of her wrist to Mika's forehead before she did the same to her own daughter.

"Mom," Wren lamented, shoving her mother's hand away, "I'm not sick. Quit doin' that!" River pulled her hand back and smiled at her daughter. She supposed checking the girls for a fever five times in the last hour was about four times too many.

"Alright, alright," River agreed, "I'll stop. You girls tell me right quick if either of ya start feelin' sick." Both girls bobbed their heads up and down in agreement. Wren kept her eyes on the game board, but Mika glanced over at River and smiled. There was a touch of sadness to her expression that had not been there the day before. But for a young girl that had just finished burying the only parent she had left in the world, Mika was coping well.

The same could not be said for Mika's older sister. But that girl had been a little off balance long before her father died. Several times now, River had caught Lizzie down by the outer fence. It wasn't unusual for the kids to break the rules and sneak out there. Some of the older boys liked to stab at the walkers throught the fence to show how tough they were. But when River caught Lizzie, the girl had been standing dangerously close to the fence, staring at the walkers and talking to them. Touching the tips of their rotting fingers with hers. To quote a phrase River's mother had been fond of, that girl was a few bricks shy of a full load. Now her father was dead and Carol had agreed to care for them. Which of course meant River had agreed to help her. She would be happy to help Carol care for Mika, who was a sweet and caring girl. But the thought of having Lizzie as her personal responsibility gave River a sick feeling down in the pit of her stomach.

"Woman!" The shout came from inside her cell. River rolled her eyes and stood up, heading for the open curtain that hung in the doorway.

"Don't call me like a dog Merle," she scolded, only half serious since she had picked up on the teasing tone in his voice when he hollered at her. He was confined to bed until the swelling in his ankle went down. This meant that he was bored and probably feeling like getting a rise out of her might be more entertaining than reading the books she had piled up by the side of the bed for him.

"Ya came when I called ya," he teased, "...like a dog." River rolled her eyes again, her hand cocked up on her hip. Then she dropped her arm and turned. Seeing that she was ready to march off, Merle hollered at her again. "I think I feel hot." At that River rushed into the cell, her face instantly contorting into a mask of worry and concern. She leaned down, putting her hand against her husband's forehead. River looked so worried about him, Merle almost felt a little bad for tricking her. But not that bad. He grasped her wrist.

"That's not where I feel hot," he told her, "it's here." He dragged her hand down, pressing her warm palm against the hard bulge in his pants. Merle watched River, getting more enjoyment than he should out of the expressions that shaped the features of her face. There was a moment of confusion that came just before she realized that not only was he not sick at all, he was toying with her. The confusion was followed quickly by shock and a healthy amount of irritation. River yanked her hand back and crossed her arms under her breasts, staring at him with her eyebrows knitted together and her mouth hanging slightly open. Merle exploded in loud bellowing laughter.

"Goddammit," River cursed, "this ain't a damn joke." Of course her serious tone only made Merle laugh harder. River snapped her mouth shut and shook her head at him. Here she was, worried every moment that they were all about to die from some weird walker swine flu and all Merle was worried about was making jokes at her expense. She moved quick, her hand shooting out like a snake and giving him one good hard stinging slap right in the crotch. Merle grunted, clutching his stomach. But clearly she hadn't hit him hard enough since he was still laughing his ass off at her.

"Have fun jerking off left handed," River told him, pointing a finger at him. Merle tried to stop laughing, but she had spoken her angry words loud enough that he could hear the girls outside his cell laughing. And River was always damn cute when she got mad enough that she broke out her mommy finger at him. She used the same gesture to point at the girls when they were doing something that really pissed her off. Seeing that she was ready to storm off again, and possibly make good on her threat of no sex for the next few days, Merle tried to get his laughter under control long enough to call her back.

"Come'on, come back," he called out, "M'sorry!" There was a moment where he wasn't sure of his wife was already gone and maybe not coming back for a while. But then River appeared back in the doorway of the cell, looking like she was trying her hardest to look as annoyed with him as possible. The crook in her nose was always more obvious when she scrunched her face up like she was doing. The break in her nose used to make him angry. At that time, Merle felt like she was refusing to fix the break in her nose as a personal insult to him. To shame him and remind him of what he had done to her. But he had moved past that, understanding now what he had always known deep down. River wasn't a vengeful person. Now he liked to think of her nose as a reminder. A reminder to never let things get that bad between them again. Never to be that man again.

"M'sorry," he insisted, his stomach still jerking from the laughter he was trying his very best to hold in.

"I'd have an easier time believin' that if ya weren't still laughin' yer ass off," River shot back.

"M'not laugin'," he insisted, biting at his lip to try and keep from grinning. Then he held his arms open for her. River hesitated in the doorway, trying to decide if she wanted to come to him or not. Her hip was cocked out, showing the soft curve of her hip under the worn demin shorts she was wearing. She was hesitating. But not in the same way she used to. He used to be able to see the pain and fear in her eyes when she looked at him. Now the worst he saw was just a little touch of annoyance at him for teasing her.

River held her ground for a moment longer before she couldn't take it anymore. She hurried to close the small space between them, letting Merle wrap his arms around her as she rested her head against his chest. River took a few deep breaths, hugging him back as best she could without touching the places on him that were still tender and painful. He stroked his hands over her hair, smoothing down the wild tendrils that had escaped from her long swinging ponytail. She felt the press of his lips on her head, and then he was whispering softly to her. Telling her what he knew she needed to hear. That everything was going to be alright. None of them were going to get sick. And even if they did, that no fucking cold was going to take them down after everything they had already survived.

River lifted her head up, smiling at him. Merle didn't always give her what she wanted, but he gave her what she needed. She twined her fingers into his hair as she leaned close enough to press her lips against his. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss as much as he dared with the curtain to his cell open and his young daughter and her friend sitting only a few feet away.

"Want me to make ya some chicken noodle soup?," River asked, leaning in for one more lingering kiss. Merle thought about all the other things he would prefer over a bowl of tasteless condensed soup, deciding quickly that asking for a blowjob was likely to get him slapped in the dick again.

"Sounds good," he said. It was a lie, but not an unkind one. Of all the things he missed the most from before the turn, River's home cooking was the one that came to mind the most. She had never let him or the girls eat dinner from a can. One of the many things he never appreciated about her until she was gone. Merle wrapped one long strand of River's hair around his finger, letting it slide through his grasp until it slipped away and fell down behind her back. River pushed herself up and off the bed, stopping to smile back into the cell once before she headed off towards the kitchen.

River expected to find Carol in the kitchen, but the space was empty aside from the orange and white tabby cat that some of the children had spent the better part of the last month taming up with tiny bits of meat and fish. The way the cat was sitting with all it's legs and it's tail tucked in underneath it's body made River smile. It looked like a big furry meatloaf with a kitten head on top, sitting on the table and sunbathing in the one long stream of light that was shining in from one of the high unreachable windows.

Lifting up onto her tiptoes, River pulled a large can of soup down from the tall metal shelving unit. She flipped on the one electric hot plate they had, hoping that the solar panels had enough juice left in them to heat the soup up to at least simmering. She could take the large stock pot outside and heat the soup up over the fire pit, but cooking over a smoky fire in the outside heat was not something she enjoyed. Especially when she had already showered and didn't want to get sweaty all over again. Cranking the can open, she allowed herself a rare moment of self pity, missing the nice big fully equipt kitchen she had back in her bakery. The multiple gas ovens in the walls and the stovetop with the extra large burners that could heat a gallon of water to boiling in only a few minutes. River tried not to dwell on luxuries she missed from before the outbreak. She had lost many simple comfort items, but she had gained her family back. The gain was more than worth the loss, at least for her. But sometimes she really did miss having a real kitchen.

Waiting for the large pot of soup to heat on the hot plate, River sat down and stroked her hand over the cat's long soft fur. The animal opened it's sleepy eyes, regarding her with a miniscule amount of suspicion before it closed them again and leaned into her gentle touch. River scratched it behind the ears and rubbed her knuckles against the rounds of it's cheeks until she heard it's little purr motor start running.

Petting the cat reminded her of how her daughters used to beg for a pet when they were younger. River always told them no. It wasn't that she didn't like animals, but more because she barely had her act together enough to take care of the three of them. The thought of adding a puppy or kitten to the mix always felt like more responsibility than she could handle. The closest thing they ever had to a pet were the injured frogs and turtles Harley used to bring home and keep in small glass tanks in her room until she felt like they were well enough to be returned to the duck pond near her school. River didn't care for the slimy reptiles, but she always allowed Harley to keep them in the hopes that her older daughter was a blossoming young doctor or nurse.

River was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of soup sizzling against the hot plate. She jumped up and turned the burner off, watching the thick angry bubbles slowly simmer down until only the steam coming off the soup was betraying how hot the liquid was. River grabbed a large lunch tray, one thing there was no shortage of at the prison. She grabbed one bowl at first, then added another. She would come back and take Merle his soup in a little while. Karen and David were sick downstairs and River was worried no one had thought to bring them lunch. She knew no one was really supposed to have contact with them, but River fiugred she could leave the tray outside the cells they were in. Just to be safe she untied the hanky she was wearing around her neck like a scarf and wrapped it around her so it was covering her nose and mouth.

With the two full bowls of soup and two large bottles of water rolling around on it, the tray was heavy and ungainly. River braced it with both hands, determined to make it down the steps without spilling. The rubber soles of her sneakers were making little squeaking noises against the cool concrete floor, so River picked her feet up as she walked. If Karen or David were resting, she didn't want to wake them. River heard a wet hacking cough echo down the hall and she paused for a moment, glad she had thought to wrap her hankerchief around her nose and mouth before she came down here. River could see the opening to the cell she guessed Karen was in. That was where the coughing was coming from.

Moving forward, River peeked inside, trying to see if the woman was awake or asleep. Someone was leaning over Karen's body, and the masked figure startled River. She had not been expecting to find anyone else down here. Most people were too afraid of getting sick, which was why River was worried in the first place that no one had thought to bring the infected people down anything to eat. But then River recognized the figure and sighed with relief. It was only Carol. Carol was the kindest, most selfless person River knew. Of course she had thought to come down here and take care of Karen and David. River opened her mouth to greet the woman. But before she could get the words out, Carol raised a knife up and stabbed Karen in the head.

The tray dropped to the floor with a loud clang. Hot soup splashed out, burning River's ankles and legs where her skin was bare. But she didn't even feel it. She was breathing hard and fast, the material of the hankercheif sucking into her open mouth and making her feel like she was suffocating. Carol turned, startled by the sudden loud splashing noise. River's eyes were wide and frightened. She was stepping backwards, the skin on her ankles turning an angry red where the soup had burned her.

River felt the cold hard press of bars against her back. Carol was coming towards her with the knife still in her hands. The one she had just used to murder Karen. River was so focused on the woman that she didn't hear the shuffling moan behind her. The only thing that saved her from being bitten were the walls between her and the animated corpse that used to be David. River shrieked, her cries muffled by the rag around her mouth. Carol raised the knife, stabbing David through the bars. He fell back, releasing his grip on River's throat.

"River, it's alright," Carol said, slapping the woman lightly across her cheeks. River looked dangerously close to hysterics. But the light contact make her eyes go focused again. She looked at Carol first, then glanced back and forth between her and Karen's dead body.

"Why?," River asked. The question was simple and Carol was grateful for it.

"Karen was dying, her lungs were filling up with blood," Carol explained. River looked back at David's body, the blood that had poured from his eyes and nose was still streaked across his face. It looked like he had died a horrible and painful death, but she had a feeling there was something more Carol wasn't telling her.

"And...," River asked, wishing more than anything that it was safe to yank down the hanky she had tied around her nose and mouth but knowing it wasn't. She needed a big breath of air. Carol sighed through her own mask.

"...And they were a threat," Carol admitted. "Do you want your girls to die like this?," she asked. River looked at the dead man again and shook her head. She still didn't feel good about what Carol had done. Karen was their friend. She deserved better. But River understood now why Carol had done it. She wasn't being unkind, she was just trying to stop the sickness from spreading. Trying to save them. "The bodies need to be burned to make sure no one else gets sick from them," Carol added. They also needed to be burned quickly, before someone came down here and stopped her. Karen was well liked and Carol knew people would want to bury her body. She couldn't risk that. Daryl had already exposed himself enough burying the other dead. She would have him risking himself like that again. Even if he was romantically involved with another woman, it would kill Carol to see him hurt or sick.

River nodded, understanding now that there was no going back from what Carol had already done. She pulled herself up off the hard dirty floor, finally feeling the burns on her legs but choosing to ignore the pain. Carol expected the woman to leave. That's what everyone in Carol's life had done to her for as long as she could remember. Left when things got too hard. The only person that ever stayed was that bastard Ed, which was part of the reason that she stuck by him all those years. Good or bad he was the only constant in her life.

But River didn't leave. Instead she squared up her shoulders and walked into Karen's cell, trying obviously not to look at the dead woman more than she had to. River stood near the head of the bed and gestured for Carol to come in and help her.

"You get'er legs and I'll get'er arms."

** First of all huge thanks to anyone that took the time to leave a review. I wasn't a huge fan of the swine zombie flu storyline so I'm probably not going to spend a ton of time on it.

Also I know I got a few reviews about Daryl and Carol. To make the ages of River and the girls work, Daryl and Merle are slightly younger in this story than they are on the show. (Their ages are never actually given so I figured it was fair enough to make them whatever age I wanted.) Because of this there is a significant age gap between Carol and Daryl. I know its popular in Caryl stories to make them the same age or even make her younger, but I like the idea of her being older than him. I hate the double standard of age gaps between men and women. There's nothing wrong with dating or being attracted to a younger man, especially one as hot as Daryl. The age difference will end up being mentioned and addressed later on in the story so I didn't want anyone to be confused about it.

Thanks again to anyone that took the time to leave a review. Also for those who don't know the site has been acting up and making it really hard to upload new chapters. I had to cut and paste this one in and it took out all my punctuation in the process so I apologize if there are more gramatical or format mistakes than usual.**


	32. Chapter 32

Red River Blue

Chapter 32

Michonne heard Daryl grumbling under his breath. She understood his frustration, but there was nothing to be done about it. Too many people were sick. That left them without many options of who to take with them on the run to the veterinary college. They needed that medication or more people were going to die.

"You take me huntin' with ya all the time," Harley reminded her Uncle. She slung her bow into the backseat, being more careful with the sheath of arrows so they didn't tip and spill all over the floorboards. "This ain't no different." Daryl replied with a snort as he slid behind the driver's seat of the Dodge Charger that used to belong to Zach. He knew he took Harley hunting, but this wasn't hunting. This was a run to an unscouted location that had the potential to be extremely dangerous. He didn't want Harley coming. But he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Harley was young, but she was capable. The more people they had to go on this run, the safer they were. They needed her. He knew it and Harley sure as hell knew it.

Harley shrugged her shoulders. Michonne stopped and leaned in close on her way around to the other side of the car, bumping her hip into Harley's and giving her a wink. Daryl might be hesitant about bringing his niece along, but Michonne was happy to have the girl as part of the team. Despite still having some reservations about the girl's father, Michonne trusted Harley and had seen her in enough tough situations to know that the girl didn't panic when the pressure got turned up. This was a quality that Michonne felt was much more important than brute strength or how good a shot someone was. None of that counted for shit if the person was going to tuck tail and run at the first sign of trouble. Or even worse start screaming and get them all killed.

Bob rounded out the group. He didn't go on many runs. So Michonne had yet to form an opinion about him. She wasn't even sure if he could could hit what he was aiming for with gun he had strapped to his belt. But he was the only person with any medical knowledge that wasn't sick or missing a leg. Bob would know what medications they needed and what could be used as a substitute if the ones on Hershel's list weren't readily available. So he was coming.

Michonne and Harley both climbed into the backseat, shifting their weapons around until they were as comfortable as they were going to get. Despite numerous offers from the car's previous owner, Harley had never been in the backseat of this particular vehicle. The seats were leather and there was more leg room than she guessed there would be. That didn't stop Harley from jamming her knees into the back of her uncle's seat a few times. That's what Daryl got for treating her like a baby and making her ask her mom if it was alright for her to come on this run.

Once she was done tormenting her uncle, Harley leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes as Daryl fired the engine up. The motor had a nice purr to it, a smooth rolling rumble that sounded much different than the clunky trucks they usually drove around. Harley smiled, thinking maybe if the run went well she might be able to drive on the way back. Her mother let her drive their camper, but she had never driven a car as fast as this one before. It might be fun. And if there was one thing Harely's tumultuous life had taught her, it was to enjoy what you had while you had it.

Daryl rolled the window down, resting his arm on the doorframe so his elbow was sticking out. Maggie was down by the main gate, ready at the pull rope to open the fences and let them out. Daryl hesistated, scrubbing at his goatee with his fingers and staring into the rearview mirror at the giant cement building behind them. Carol always told him goodbye before he left on a run. Always. This was the first time she hadn't and he realized he was sitting and hoping she might rush out and the last minute and lean into the car to wrap one of her slim arms around his neck. She had been acting strange around him the last few days, but he had figured she was just worried about all the sick people. Carol spent too much time taking care of everyone else and not enough taking care of herself. He was afraid the stress might make her more suseptable to the sickness that was going around. Just another reason to hurry back with the medication he was going out to get.

Just as Daryl started to pull the shifter to put the car into drive, he did see someone rushing out of the prison. But it wasn't Carol like he had been hoping. It was River. She had a paper bag in her hands, which she shoved in through the window. Food for everyone. River leaned in through the open window and hugged Daryl around the neck, telling him loudly to be careful and the run and keep an eye on Harley. But Daryl picked up on a strange tone in her voice. She hadn't come to bring him the food, or to tell him to be careful. As she hugged his neck she hissed into his ear.

"Hurry the fuck up and git back here," she whispered, "Merle's sick." Her voice was so low and her words so quick, Daryl wasn't even sure if he heard her right. But when she backed up he saw the fear showing plainly on her face. She was afraid, but she hadn't given up yet. He saw determination on her face mixed in with the stress that made the crook in her nose go sideways. River tapped lightly on Harley's window, giving her daughter a wave goodbye before she turned in her heel and ran back inside the building.

TWD

"Are you in charge?," Wren asked the older girl. Beth smiled at her and shifted Judith to her other hip. Judith used the opportunity to reach for the long braid of Beth's hair that was hanging down over that shoulder. She grasped it, smiling and waving her golden prize around in the air. Wren giggled at the happy baby before she reached over to gently remove Beth's hair from Judith's tight grasp before poor Beth got all the hair yanked clean out of her head.

"Yeah," Mika chimed in, "you're the oldest, are you in charge?"

Beth shrugged her shoulders. She wasn't really sure who was in charge. Her dad told her to get the kids and take them all to the administration building. He was afraid Judith would die if she caught the flu. So like the good girl she was, Beth did as she was told. But beyond getting the kids over here and away from the sickness, Beth hadn't thought much further ahead. Now they were gathering around her like a flock of nervous birds, looking to her for guidance. Something she wasn't used to providing. It felt like they were all asking her a million questions at once.

 _Who's in charge? What are we going to eat for dinner? Where are we going to sleep? How long do we have to stay in here? Can I hold the baby? This place is boring, what are we supposed to do in here all day?_

Beth felt like her head was spinning. She was scared. More scared than she remembered being in quite a while. There was always a level of fear to living in this new world, but this sickness was far beyond that. Beth was scared for Glenn, who was sick now. Even more scared for Maggie, who was going to lose her shit if Glenn died. She was terrified for her father, who she knew was going to try and help the sick even though it meant he would probably get sick himself. But what scared Beth the most was that everyone outside this office building might get sick. They might die and leave her alone with a group of children to care for. She wasn't even sure if she could take care of herself.

"Hey!," Carl shouted, effectively shutting up the rest of the group and getting their attention. Once they were listening he started barking out orders. Telling the kids which office they were sleeping in and to go get the cushions off all the couches and make beds on the floor with them.

Beth breathed a sigh of relief, grateful to the boy for taking over. Carl reminded her of a pint sized version of his father, and having mini Rick in charge made Beth more relief than she thought she really ought to. She carried Judith over to a chair inside the large office Carl had picked out as a base of operations and sat down. Her head felt like it was spinning and she couldn't remember the last time she had anything to eat. During the day, Beth had been putting on a brave face for her family and friends, but Zach's death had affected her more than she let on. She hadn't slept in days. Every time Beth fell asleep her dreams were filled with all the horrible ways the young man might have died. Beth had been adamant about not knowing the details of his death, but now she wished she had let Daryl or Harley tell her. Nothing could be worse than the things she was imagining.

"I can take her," Wren offered, lifting Judith out of Beth's lap, "You look tired." Beth nodded gratefully and got up to shuffle over to where the other kids were tossing the cushions they were hauling in from the other offices. Wren watched Beth lower herself down onto the floor and rest her head on a large square cushion. A few minutes later, the young woman was asleep. It was hard to do things with a wiggly baby in her arms, but Wren managed to yank a blanket out of the bag her mom had packed for her. She covered Beth up with it, pulling it up around the older girl's shoulders just as Judith started to fuss.

Wren had been eager to hold Judith. She had chubby little baby cheeks and she was always smiling and giggling. But now that the little girl was starting to fuss, Wren wasn't sure what to do with her. Being the youngest in her family, Wren didn't have much experience with babies. She patted Judith on the back and bounced her around a little, but it didn't seem to make her any happier. The little girl started crying louder. Wren carried her out into the hall to keep her from waking Beth. They were inside and safe from the dead, but the loud way Judith was crying still made Wren feel the panic start to boil inside her.

Wren felt tap on her shoulder. The sensation startled her and she spun so fast her ponytail swung out away from her head. Instinct made Wren shift the small child in her arms away from whoever had touched her, keeping the baby away from any perceived danger.

"Sorry," Carl said, offering Wren up the bottle he had just made for his sister along with a sheepish grin, "I didn't mean to scare you." Wren smiled at him. She would be hard pressed to decided if she was more happy to see Carl or the bottle of formula in his hands. Judith spotted the bottle and started howling louder. Wren grabbed the bottle and stuffed it into the child's mouth. As soon as Judith gulped down the first few sips, she calmed down. The movements of her jaw became more rhythmic and her eyes started to droop shut.

Wren felt Carl's hand on her back again but this time it didn't startle her. He put his larger hand over her smaller one, adjusting the way Wren was holding the bottle to keep Judith from swallowing down too much air. Instead of jerking away from his touch, this time Wren found herself leaning into him. When she first got to the prison, Carl was almost the same height as her, but more and more she was noticing that she was having to tilt her head back to look him in the face. Soon he was going to be able to rest his chin on her forehead. Wren used to wish to be bigger and taller. Like her sister. But now she wasn't so sure. It felt good to be leaning into someone that felt so much bigger and stronger than her.

"I'm so glad yer here," Wren murmured, her voice barely above a whisper now that Judith was falling asleep in her arms, "I'd be scared without you." Carl wasn't sure what to say in response to her simple declaration. It made him feel good in a way he hadn't known he could feel. So instead of talking he pulled Wren closer and wrapped his arms around her and the baby she was holding.

She leaned further into his touch, resting her against his shoulder. When Carl turned his head towards her, his lips pressed against her hair. He had never given much thought to how anyone's hair felt. Hair was just there. Wren's was long and pretty, but he never thought touching his lips to it would feel better than anything he had ever felt before. She smelled like honey from that hive they knocked down and campfire smoke from the fire they started to smoke out the bees. His dad had really given him the business when he found out what they had been up to, but Wren's dad only laughed. River used the last of the shortening to make them sugar biscuits to dip into the honey and they both gorged themselves until they were sticky sweet from their fingers to their elbows.

"What are we gonna do if...," Wren's voice hitched and she choked a little on her words, "...if all the big people get sick?" Her words made Carl smile. Not because he thought everyone getting sick was funny, but because of the way Wren referred to all the grown ups as _big people_ like they were giants and she was a tiny fairy. It was about the cutest thing Carl ever heard. And her voice was so soft and sweet. It wasn't high pitched like the other girls their age. It was lower and softer, like her mother's.

"I can take care of you," Carl told her, finally speaking up through the swirl of thoughts in his head. Wren turned in his arms, tilting her head back to look up at him. For a moment he thought she might be ready to mock him and tell him he was just a boy and there was no way he could take care of anyone. But instead she looked like she was trying to figure out if he was teasing her instead. Which of course he wasn't. He had never been more serious about anything in his life than he was about taking care of Wren.

Whatever Wren saw on his face erased the indecision on hers. The corners of her mouth twitched up into a whisper of a smile and then her eyes fluttered shut. She was leaning towards him, her face so close to his that he could feel her breathing. It took Carl a moment before he realized that she was leaning towards him with her eyes closed because she expected him to kiss her. His head started spinning again and he looked down at the girl in his arms. He quickly tried to decide if he wanted to kiss her. Wren was his friend. His best friend. He wasn't sure if kissing his friend was a good idea. And Carl had never kissed anyone before. He wasn't sure if he would like it.

One more look at Wren's full pink lips and he decided that he did want to kiss her. Badly. He closed his eyes, his tounge darting out nervously to wet his lips. Time slowed down. It felt like an hour passed as Carl blinked his own eyes shut and leaned down to press his lips to hers. His nose brushed against hers and then they were kissing. Well maybe not really kissing, but his lips were touching hers. She was pressing back against him with her mouth, starting to move her lips a little instead of just standing there awkwardly with her mouth touching his.

The loud sound of someone clearing their throat nearby brought a abrupt hault to any and all romatic activities. Wren jerked away, squeaking out her surprise at seeing another person standing only a few feet away from them. Carl spun to face the intruder. Hershel was standing in the empty hall with them, looking lke he was trying very hard to keep a serious expression on his face. The man was holding a bucket in his hands and looked like he was dressed for some sort of outside the fences excursion.

"Where you going?," Carl asked, nodding towards the bucket in Hershel's hands and the gun on his hip. As Carl waited for the man to answer his hand unconciously snaked up towards his mouth. He felt his lips with the tips of his fingers, feeling to make sure they hadn't been altered by the contact he had with Wren. As though her brief kiss had the power to change the shape and texture of his anatomy. His lips had sure felt different when they were pressed against hers. And instead of slacking his thirst for her, he found that kissing her had only intensified his desire to have her in his arms again. But now his lips felt almost back to normal again.

"I need to make something for the sick, try to help them if I can," Hershel explained, "I'm going out to look for some home remedies." Hershel stopped. He was torn between taking control of the youngsters that appeared to be running somewhat wild inside the administration building and his pressing need to do something to help the people that were dying in the next cellblock over. The sick were going to have to take precedence over the face sucking teenagers. But Hershel decided he was going to stop in and have a quick word with Wren's mother on his way to the cellblock where the people with flu symptoms were being sequestered. Wren and Carl were sweet together, and probably too young to get into any real trouble. But Hershel wasn't fond of the idea of them living and sleeping alone in these offices without any adult supervision.

"Can't let you go out there," Carl told the old man. He glanced at Wren. Carl didn't want to leave her alone, especially after he had just promised to take care of her. But he couldn't let Hershel go outside by himself either. He would get ate up for sure. Wren bobbed her head at him like she understood what he was thinking. Then she shifted the sleeping baby that was getting very heavy in her arms and smiled at him. Carl should go with Hershel. She could keep an eye on things while he was gone. She wasn't totally helpless.

"Can't let me go...," Hershel repeated. Carl didn't seem to understand who he was talking to. Hershel was the adult here. Not Carl.

"Well," Carl said, softening his tone, "I can make sure you don't go out there alone."


	33. Chapter 33

Red River Blue

Chapter 33

Hershel carried his bucket of elderberries, racking his brain for any other natural remedies that he could think of. Ginger root, especially if it was boiled down, might help. The same could be said for garlic and horseradish. But the problem was that none of these plants grew wild anywhere in the vicinity of the prison. If they did Daryl or one of the kids would have found them long before now. When they didn't have their faces buried in comic books, Carl and Wren had been pouring over a book they had found on wild foraging. Anything edible within a few miles had been located and either eaten or marked down on a little map so they could go back later and pick the wanted food item once it was fit for consumption.

Hershel set his bucket of berries down near the door that led into the block where the sick people were being secluded. He wanted to get in and help them as soon as possible, especially now that his daughter's husband had taken ill. Glenn was a good man and Hershel had come to care for him like a son. He was willing to risk his own health to make sure the young man got the care he needed. But first he had promised himself that he would alert Wren's mother to what was going on between her and Carl. His first concern was for the two young lovebirds that were in the medical building with no supervision. But his second and more pressing concern was for the group as a whole. Hershel knew things would get ugly in a hurry if Rick's son somehow managed to impregnate Merle's youngest daughter. The two men had just recently started getting along better. Hershel didn't want that to change.

Most of the people in River's cellblock had taken ill. As Hershel entered he got a chill. The only movement in the place was the small flutter of the curtains that had been hung in the doorways of the cells to give the occupants some small amount of privacy. As he crept silently by, Hershel realized that some of the curtains were no longer necessary. Because the people that used to live in rooms he was looking into were dead now.

The cellblock River lived in was the noisiest. It had the most people and the most children out of the three blocks they had cleared for people to live in. A few days before Hershel had come by to fix up Merle's leg. Children had been running and playing. Mothers called out to the children and to each other. Now the silence was oppressive in contrast. For just a moment, Hershel got the eerie feeling he was already dead and walking through a ghost town. Then he heard a loud hacking cough.

Almost immediately Hershel felt his whole body go tense. The sound of a cough had quickly become the most feared noise in the entire prison. Hershel forced himself to relax and keep walking towards the noise. A few moments before he had only been coming in to talk to River about her daughter, now he was afraid of what he might find inside her cell.

Hershel's prostetic leg was slightly shorter than his real one. Because of it, he had a slight hobble to his step and often used a cane to get around faster. The quiet of the air around him made each shuffling step sound louder than it really was. He got closer, the cells passing by, until he was right outside of the room he knew belonged to River and Merle. The curtain to the girl's cell was open and he could see some of Wren's drawings hung up on the wall inside. A portrait of Carl caught his eye. It was quite good and had captured the serious look that the boy often had on his face when he was thinking hard about something.

Another loud cough came from inside the closed cell, followed by the sound of someone vomiting. Hershel took another step forward, bringing his fake leg down onto a board game that some of the kids must have left out. The plastic pieces scattered across the cement floor, making little ting noises as they hit the ground and bounced away. Hershel looked down to make sure none of them were broken. When he looked back up there was a gun pointed into his face. River hesitated. Then she back him up against the wall and shoved the gun closer to his face. The business end of it was touching his jawbone. But it was the shake of her other hand and the hitch in her breathing that scared him more than the gun. Her eyes were bloodshot and she looked on the verge of losing control over herself.

"Yer not takin' him down into that fuckin' death trap," she announced. Hershel nodded. Now he understood what was going on. Merle must be sick. And River wanted to take care of him herself. She wasn't going to let anyone take him away. Hershel didn't blame her. He planned on taking care of Glenn. That's just what families did for each other.

River pulled the gun out of his face long enough to gesture with it. "Go on and git," she told him, "and I swear if ya send Rick down here to try an take Merle I'll shoot 'im dead. I swear I will." Hershel wasn't sure who she was trying to convince, him or herself. She was sniffling and wiping her nose on the hem of her shirt with the hand that wasn't holding the gun.

"I'm already here," Hershel said. His voice was soothing. Calming. And River knew Hershel was a good man. She wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around his neck and beg him to help her. But she was afraid. Sick people kept going down into that cell block and only bodies were coming out. "Why don't you let me take a look at him?," Hershel coaxed. After another moment of hesitation River stepped back and shoved the gun back into the holster that was strapped to her belt. It hung lower on her thigh than the denim shorts she was wearing. They were so short the bottoms of the pockets were hanging out, flapping as she moved.

Hershel pulled the curtain back and braced himself against the strong smell of vomit. Merle was lying on the bed, looking worse for wear since the last time Hershel saw him. He was lying on his back with his arm over his eyes, the metal sleeve he usually wore was on on the bunk above him. Seeing him without it on was almost like seeing him naked. He looked raw and vulnerable. River was hovering close by, shifting her slight weight back and forth from one foot to the other nervously as she waited to see what Hershel was going to do.

Getting a little closer, Hershel tilted his head to the side and took a look inside the large plastic five gallon bucket that River must have taken from the garden area to be used as a barf bowl. Hershel expected to see blood inside. All the people that had the flu were vomiting blood, lots and lots of blood. There was so much that at the end it was even coming out of their eyes and noses. But there was nothing but vomit in the bucket.

"Has he been coughing up blood?," Hershel asked, glancing towards River for an answer. She shook her head. Hershel leaned and and pressed his hand to Merle's forehead. The man moved his arm and looked up at him. He looked a little green around the gills, but instead of the fever Hershel had been expecting to feel, the man was cold and clammy.

"Have you eaten anything that no one else ate?," Hershel asked him. Merle looked up at him, confused at first. But then his face twisted up into what could only be described as a rather sickening grin on his pale face.

"Yeah," he rasped, "Pussy." Hershel stepped out of the way just in time to be missed by the damp towel River flung into her husband's face. River's anger at his crude joke made Merle laugh. She was scared to death over his condition. This was not the time to be making jokes. The laughter only lasted a few seconds before Merle was turned over grippping the green plastic bucket for dear life as he emptied whatever might be left in his stomach into it.

"Serves ya right," River told him, though even her scolding sounded half hearted. There were dark circles under her eyes and her usually rosy cheeks were void of color. If she wasn't careful she was going to land herself in a sick bed due to sheer exhaustion. Hershel just shook his head, trying to remember if he had ever seen someone barf and laugh at the same time before. Then River just sort of barelled into him. She hugged him around the waist and rested her head against his chest, muffling her sobs into the front of his only clean shirt.

"Is he gonna die?" she asked once she had regained control over herself. Hershel was impressed with how quickly River had gone from crying out a few choked sobs to being calm again. She was done crying before Merle was done dry heaving over his puke bucket. Not for the first time, Hershel thought about how much River reminded him of his first wife. Maggie's mother. She had been tough like that, and she had to be to put up with the crap he put her through. River had already backed away from him, embarrassed at her emotional outburst, but Hershel reached over and rubbed her shoulder. She reached up and squeezed his hand with hers since even smiling felt like it might take too much energy.

"How bad is it?" she asked, glancing again at Merle. He was done making jokes and had returned to lying on his back with his arm protecting his eyes from the dim light.

"I think he's got food poisoning," Hershel said. Every case of the flu he had seen had come with a deadly high fever. No one else had been vomiting. And he had seen both Merle and his brother eat some disgusting things. Food that other people would have thrown away. He had been telling them both for months that they were going to end up sick. It just so happened that his prediction came true while the rest of the prison was sick with the flu.

"I'm not dying," Merle asked from under his arm. The huge grin that lit up River's face made Hershel smile. It had been a while since he saw anyone that happy. The tears were flowing from her eyes again, but this time they were happy tears.

"No, you're not dying," Hershel replied. Before he could stop himself he added on another piece of choice advice to his diagnosis, "...but I think you better lay off the pussy for a while."

As Hershel walked back through the empty cell block he heard laughter behind him. This was chased by the sound of Merle vomiting again and then River laughing harder as she knelt in the doorway wringing a washcloth out in cold water to put it across Merle's forehead. For the first time since they found the first person dead from the flu, Hershel felt hopeful again.

 ****Sorry that was sort of a short one, but I figured better short than none at all. I hope to get past the flu storyline in the next chapter and on to more exciting things. Carol's POV during the time when Rick kicked her out of the group will be up next, along with the fall of the prison. As always thanks to anyone that took the time to leave a review.****


	34. Chapter 34

Red River Blue

Chapter 34

Choices. Carol reminded herself again that she still had choices. Then she laid her head back against the headrest of the car she had slept the night in and closed her eyes. The truth was she had no choice in what happened to her. Rick hadn't given her a choice when he kicked her out of the group. What she had left now felt more like several bad options on how to make a terrible situation a little less terrible.

Carol's neck was sore from sleeping in the driver's seat of what now served as both her car and her home. She had fallen asleep with her knife gripped tightly in her hand. But sometime during the night, she must have fallen asleep and let the weapon slip from her grasp. Now it was lying on the floorboards of the car under her feet. Using her heel, Carol drug it a little closer before she reached down between her knees to grab it. The early morning light was shining in through the dingy windows of the car. It glinted off the razor sharp blade of her knife. Her favorite time of day had always been the very early morning. Morning meant she had survived another night. And her used to be husband had always enjoyed staying up late, which meant the wee hours of the morning offered her a short time that she was free from not only his hands and his fists and his belt, but also from his watchful eyes.

Thoughts of Ed always led to thoughts of the daughter he had given her. Sophia. The only thing her pitiful excuse for a husband ever really gave her. Most of the time Carol tried not to think about Sophia. But when she did think of her she liked to imagine her daughter in a peaceful place. A place where there were no walkers, no worries, no hunger, no pain and no heartbreak. The reason Carol tried not to think about Sophia was because it wasn't too far of a stretch to imagine herself being there with her. Being dead. Even if there was nothing but the empty darkness after death, it would still offer some relief from the horror of the world had become.

This led to thoughts of options number one. Carol turned the knife around in her hands, watching the light gleam off the blade. She kept it sharp. So sharp she might not even feel much pain if she drug the blade across her wrists. She had been close to suicide once before. When she found out she was preganant with a girl. Ed never smiled at her. But he smiled when the ultrasound technician told him the baby inside Carol's stomach was a girl. The sickening gleam in his eyes made Carol feel so sick that she ran for the bathroom and threw up what little food she had managed to keep down from breakfast that morning. Ed had beaten her for embarrassing him, but he had been careful not to touch her midsection.

The thought of bringing another person into the world of torture and abuse that she was living in was almost too much to take. After Ed left for work, Carol had pried the blade out of a pink lady schick razor and drug it across her left wrist in the bathroom of the crappy trailer she and Ed had been living in at the time. It had not been self preservation that stopped her actions. It had been seeing the blood dripping down onto her freshly mopped floor. Carol knew that there was a chance her suicide attempt would be a failure. She wasn't afraid of dying. She was afraid of not dying and then getting beaten bloody for making a mess in the bathroom. When she was cleaning up the mess she made in the bathroom she felt Sophia kick for the first time.

Carol ran her finger over the old scar on her wrist. She put her knife away. Option one was no longer an option. The hurtful words Rick had spoken to her still stung. Especially the part about him no trusting her with his children. But she wasn't the same weak woman she had been all those years ago. She wasn't going to let him break her.

Option number two was only slightly more appealing than option number one. Carol could leave. She knew how to survive. She could survive on her own for a while. Maybe she could even find another group and make a fresh start. She told herself that there had to be other people out there. Some of them had to be decent people. This option felt the most appealing if she imagined what she could do for these hypothetical people and how much more she might be appreciated than she was back at the prison. But there were problems with this plan. First of all, she didn't know where she might find more people. And secondly, she was afraid that the people she would run into might not be decent or nice people. They might be the sort of people that would hurt or kill her.

Carol's last option was the one that sounded the best, but also scared her the most. She could go back to the prison. Rick was going to expose her for what she did to Karen and David. There was no doubt in her mind that he planned to tell everyone what she did. She knew the person she ought to be afraid of was Tyreese. But she wasn't afraid of him. Tyreese and what he thought of her didn't matter to Carol. She didn't care about a big overgrown baby that whined about having to stab walkers through the fences. She was worried about the people who's opinons mattered to her.

River was there when it happened, a fact that Carol hadn't bothered to inform Rick of. She wondered if it would have made a difference if Rick had known that River was her accomplice. River wasn't someone that Rick would be able to kick out of the group the way he had kicked Carol out. If Rick even considered such a thing, Merle would have him on the ground beating him senseless like he had been dying for an excuse to do ever since he rejoined the group. Carol knew River would take her side. And she was fairly sure Merle would back them both up. If anything he would use it as an excuse to throw his weight around and show he had more sway over the group than Rick did. Rick would have to give in just to keep the peace. Carol would be able to stay. Maybe she could even have Lizzie and Mika back.

The problem with this plan was Daryl. Carol didn't want Daryl to know what she did. Because if she had to explain to him why she burnt those bodies, Carol would have to explain how she felt about him. David was already dead. Karen was dying. Carol killed her as a mercy. She did it so Karen wouldn't die choking to death on her own blood. But Carol had not burned them as a mercy. She had done it because she was afraid Daryl would get sick if he kept handling and burying the bodies of the people that had died from the flu. She did it because she loved him and didn't want him to get sick and die. There was no way in this world or any other that she was ever going to pour her heart out to a man that she knew didn't want her.

All the emotions that Carol had been shoving down deep inside of her finally welled up and spilled over. She crossed her arms over the steering wheel of the car and buried her head on her arms. Then she just let the tears come. She had promised herself after Sophia that she was done crying. Done being weak. But the image of Daryl with Beth in his arms felt like it was burned on the insides of her eyelids. All Carol could think about was how stupid she had been. She had been reading too much into all the little interactions she had with him. Making up a relationship in her mind that simply didn't exist. Listening to River's silly romatic ideas about all of them being one big happy family together and how she always wanted a sister for herself and an aunt for her girls. Believing that had been the worst decision of all. Daryl had never liked her as more than a friend. She had been an idiot to think otherwise.

The smack of a walker throwing its decomposing body against the window of her car brought Carol out of her own thoughts and back into reality. She immediately grabbed for her knife, her mind instantly going into self preservation mode. That made Carol smile through her tears. She could never slit her wrists. She wasn't the same weak woman she had been back then. She wasn't even afraid. She was angry. It felt like she couldn't even get a few moment to sort out her thoughts without a walker invading on her space.

"Go away," Carol screamed at the mindless creature. Then she sighed. Yelling was the worst thing she could have done. The noise only served to attract more of the dumb stumbling dead ones in her direction. Carol wiped the tears from her eyes. She twisted the key in the ignition and pressed her foot down on the gas. She drove, but she didn't drive back to the prison. Not yet.

TWD

Now that she knew he wasn't dying, River's unwavering tolerance of Merle's constant disgusting and very audible puking was wearing thin. She set him up with a clean bucket and a bottle of water. Then she headed outside for some air that didn't smell like vomit. River leaned against the building, lifting one leg up and bracing her foot against the brick like she was a flamingo at rest. She sucked in a few deep breaths. The air was fresh but she could still smell vomit. Looking down at herself she realized with a bit of sadness and disgust that the smell was coming from the dried vomit in her hair. River couged into her fist and almost barfed herself. Once she got control of her gag reflex she started laughing.

Since she knew now that she most likely hadn't been exposed to whatever virus was making everyone sick, River was thinking about walking over and checking on her younger daughter. Now that her immediate concerns over Merle's safety were quelled, there was room in her mind for her other worries to start creeping in. She was worried about Harley, who was still gone on the run to the veterinary college. And she was also concerned about Wren, who was alone in the office building with the boy she liked. River was glad Carl wasn't older. Boys matured slower and she was pretty sure he wasn't advanced enough to try anything too serious. But it still worried her. Sometimes hormones had a way of taking over. Being alone in an abandoned office building, afraid that your whole family might be dying outside. That was a situation that might lead two young people to seek comfort in any way possible.

River fished around in her pocket for the only hair-tie she had left. She pulled her vomit scented hair into a high pontail, leaving the ends looped through to form her least favorite hairstyle. Nothing said I've given up on my looks like a sloppy mom bun. River sighed. The end of the world or not, there was no good excuse for letting yourself go. But for the moment, she had more important things to worry about than her hair.

The office building was unlocked. River let herself in quietly. She listened first, then headed down the hall in the direction of the voices she heard. There was a low groan, followed by some muffled laughter. River hurried in the direction of the noise, more concerned than ever at what she was going to find her daughter doing. The voices were getting louder but no more easy to make out.

Once she got in front of the open doorway, River had to stop and laugh at herself. There was nothing sexual going on at all. The kids were gathered around a monopoly board they had set up in the floor. Wren was holding Judith in her lap. As River watched the little girl reached over and yanked on a piece of her brother's hair, pulling it mercilessly. Carl groaned and Wren giggled as she reached for Judith's hand and attempted to pry her tiny fist open.

"Make her stop, she's kicking the pieces," one of the younger children complained. Wren laughed again and scooted back farther from the game board. With the object of her attentions now to far away to torture, Judith twisted around in Wren's lap and grabbed for her hair instead. Her chestnut locks were pulled back from her face in a ponytail but a few sunbleached tendrils were hanging down loose around her face. Judith grabbed for one and gave it a good hard tug. Wren squealed as a small handful of the soft baby hairs around her face were yanked from her scalp.

River halfway expected Carl to start laughing at her daughter's discomfort. That was the type of immature behavior that would be typical of a boy his age. But Carl didn't laugh. Instead he shuffled forward on his knees and reached his hand out towards Wren's face. He stroked the spot where her hair had been pulled with the knuckles of his hand, almost like it had hurt him as much as it had hurt her. They stayed that way for a moment, looking into each other's eyes. The dreamy expressions on their faces were enough to make River feel a soft pull deep in the middle of her chest. She tried to remind herself that she had come to make sure her daughter was being responsible, not to swoon over how cute she and Carl were together. But the truth was, River was happy. Falling in love for the first time was special and magical and something River would be eternally grateful that her daughter didn't have to miss out on just because the world as they knew it before had ended.

Carl lifted his sister up out of Wren's lap and deposited her on a soft padding of blankets they had set up on the floor for the little girl to roll around on. He handed her a red solo cup, which Judith happily grabbed and shook around in front of her face.

"Mom!," Wren squealed. In her excitement to get onto her feet she bumped the game board with the toe of her sneaker and sent a few of the pieces bouncing onto the floor. Wren didn't notice. She was too busy crossing the room to wrap her arms around her mother. Wren's hips and legs still hadn't filled out, but she and her mother were almost the exact same height now. Wren looked like a woman, but when she huggged her mom she still wrapped her arms around the woman's neck like she was a child.

"Is it daddy?," Wren asked, "Did he get sicker?" She already had tears in her eyes at the very thought of something bad happening to someone she loved. River pulled up the hem of her shirt and wiped her daughter's tears away before she answered.

"No baby," she assured the girl, "Hershel checked on him. He's not really sick, he just has food poisoning." As she spoke to her daughter, River watched Carl out of the corner of her eye. He reminded her of an eager puppy. He got halfway up. Sunk back down onto his knees near his sister. He hesitated a moment longer and then finally jumped up and rushed over to Wren like he couldn't stand being across the room from her for one more second. Wren let go of her mother and grabbed for Carl instead, holding one of his hands between the two of hers.

"Is your dad okay?," Carl asked, keeping his voice low and quiet. Wren nodded and River smiled. The fact that Merle was sick was supposed to be a secret. One River knew she should really be mad at Wren for telling. But she couldn't find it in herself to be angry. And she had a very strong suspicion that Carl would not have blabbed their secret. Maybe not even to his own father.

"I've got to get back," River told them, "I just wanted ta check and make sure y'all were doing alright..." She let her voice trail off, thinking about the very serious lecture that she had come here to give her daughter. The lecture about sex and responsibility and making good choices. But saying those words just felt wrong. River felt like if she said what she came to say she would be making something sweet and innocent into something dirty. So she swallowed the lump in her throat and placed a gentle hand on Carl's shoulder instead. She said the only thing there was to say.

"While yer in here I want you to keep an eye on my baby for me," River said. Carl nodded vigorously and gripped Wren's hands tighter. River leaned in and gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek. Mika hurried over for a quick hug, asking if Carol was back yet from the run she had gone on with Rick. River didn't know, but she assured the girl that if Carol wasn't back yet she would be soon. Even if Carol couldn't take care of herself, which she could, she was with Rick. And despite her husband's opinion of the man, River knew Rick would never let anything happen to any of them.


	35. Chapter 35

Red River Blue

Chapter 35

He always did his best not to be obvious about it. But Daryl's eyes were always scanning. Observing the body language of the people around him to help him assess their current state of mind. Clenched jaws and crossed arms might signal trouble. Hershel rubbed his beard when he was concerned for someone he cared about.

Daryl was also on the constant lookout for any possible signs of danger. Since the world ended, keeping a close eye on their surroundings was something that most people had to get used to doing. They had to make a concious effort to remember to do it. Not Daryl. He and his brother had a different sort of upbringing than the rest of the prison residents. Daryl was used to being on guard at all times. Even when he was so young that he was still wearing underwear with cartoon characters on them he could remember listening at the door of the bedroom he shared with his brother before he crossed the narrow hall to use the bathroom. Poised in frozen motion with his ear pressed near the door he listened carefully to make sure he wouldn't run into his father in the hall.

Aside from his immediate family and Rick, who had been police trained to constantly keep watch over his surroundings, there was one other person that Daryl noticed doing the same thing. Carol was always watching everyone. Daryl never asked her about it. But he guessed that she did it for about the same reasons he did. After so many years of living with a crazy person, constantly watching your back just became habit.

If someone had asked Daryl to make a list of the qualities he wanted in a woman, observant probably wouldn't have made the top ten. But he liked it. More than he was willing to admit. He still kept an eye out for her. Especially after they almost lost her down in the tombs. Daryl kept an eye on her. But he did it because he wanted to. Not because he felt like he had to. Carol would never come out and say it, but he knew she did the same for him. It happened more often than not. He would pause, scanning his eyes around the prison courtyard. Counting off the residents like little ducks. Making sure everyone was there and keeping an eye out for any sign of danger. And instead of seeing a weak spot in the fence or a gun left out on a table for the kids to grab, he would see Carol instead. Standing with her arms crossed under her breasts.

Their eyes would meet. Ususally hers would flick back down to whatever thankless task she was working on like she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. But not always. Once in a while he could catch her eye and she would smile at him. Just a tiny turn of the lips. But it made him feel warm down deep in his belly. Like out in front of everyone they had shared a secret moment that no one else knew about.

The run to the veterinary college had been a bad one. There had been too many close calls. And the incident with Bob and the bottle of liquor had dredged up some bad memories for him. He guessed Harley felt the same way because she had been deadly silent the whole drive back then gone straight to her room and pulled the curtain shut behind her. Daryl had been up for so many hours straight that he had lost count. Running on fumes. So when he crashed in his bunk without even bothering to take his boots off, he fully expected to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. But instead he laid awake a while with his mind racing.

River was always trying to meddle in his love life. She had been doing it since they were kids. So when she started dropping not so subtle hints about him and Carol he just brushed it off as another one of her well intentioned but still terrible ideas. But one conversation the two of them had stuck in his mind. It played over and over again on repeat whenever his mind was too overstressed to let his body relax. _You know she wants to sleep with you. No she don't. Yes she does. She sure don't act like it. That's because yer used to whores and Carol ain't no whore. What in the hell does that mean? It means yer going to have to make the first move ya dummy._ Daryl was fairly sure he told River the same thing he always told her. To mind her own goddamn business. And she had told him the same thing she always told him back. That she loved him and that made his business her business. It was hard to argue with that.

Make the first move was the part that stuck with him and Daryl had been playing over and over again in his mind. Mostly because he couldn't figure out what in the hell it meant. He couldn't just walk up and grope her. Carol wasn't that sort of woman. And that approach really only worked for Merle, who was cocky enough to pull it off. This meant that Daryl would have to talk to her instead. And talking about his feelings sounded about as inviting as bare naked wrestling an undead alligator. He had no idea where in the hell he would even begin.

Sleep came on him like it always did. Fast and hard and without warning. When Daryl woke in the morning he was covered in a blanket that had not been in his room before. It smelled like some sort of fruit scented body spray. The kind Wren hosed herself down in because River said she wasn't old enough for real perfume. The lingering scent made Daryl smile, since he knew his neice must have been the one that snuck into his room sometime after he passed out and tucked him in. Wren had always been a sweetheart and it made him happy to know that the end of the world hadn't yet sucked all the kindness and compassion out of her. Maybe it never would.

Daryl scrubbed at his face with his hands. He pulled a smoke from the crumpled pack in his front shirt pocket and pinched it between his teeth as he headed out of his cell. The sun was shining in from the high windows, but the angle of the light seemed wrong. Daryl felt slightly disoriented and he realized he must have slept much later than he realized. The first person he saw was River. She was sitting in a chair in front of the cell she shared with his brother. There was a folded basket of sheets in front of her and she was biting at the skin on her thumb, her legs crossed and her foot bobbing nervously.

"What's wrong?," Daryl asked her immmediately, "S'not Merle again is it?" He had checked on his brother before he went to bed. The man looked like shit warmed over but he had stopped puking and was keeping down the water and applesauce that River had been encouraging him to eat. River shook her head as she rose from the metal chair. The side of her thumb was still in her mouth and she yanked it away, stuffing it into the pocket of her jeans.

"Don't get upset," she said, her bottom lip replacing the thumb she had been chewing on as she sucked the side of it between her lips and nibbled on the plump flesh. Daryl glanced around halfheartedly before he lit the cigarette in his mouth. Smoking wasn't allowed inside the cellblock. A rule that was often broken and seldom enforced by anyone besides Carol. Whenever River warned him not to get upset it meant she was about to tell him something that was going to make him angry enough to punch a wall and he figured a smoke might calm his nerves. His first thought was that something sexual had happened between his neice and Rick's son. If that was the case it was a good thing his brother was still bedridden.

"Just tell me River," Daryl demanded. River was still biting at her lip and kicking the scuffed toe of her converse sneaker into the concrete, making little high pitched squeaking noises.

"I didn't want to tell you last night," she said, finally letting her now reddened lip slide out from between her teeth to speak, "because I was scared you would take off in the dark and get yerself hurt." River moved closer, reaching to grab for the cigarette in his hand. She took one quick deep breath and blew it out with a cough before handing it back like it disgusted her.

"Who's missing," Daryl asked. There was only one reason he would take off in the dark and that was to look for someone that needed help. And that would only be if that person was someone that he cared about. Merle, River and the girls were accounted for. Which only left a very small select group of people that were included in that group. A select group of one. Daryl felt his body tense up. He knew what River was going to say before she said it.

"Carol."

Daryl was back inside his room in a matter of seconds, slinging his bag and crossbow over his shoulder. The smoke from his cigarette streamed behind him like the steam from a train engine. "Where was the last place you saw her?," he asked, turning to River, who was hovering in the doorway of his cell. He would prefer to take Merle with him, but since he was out of commission Daryl was thinking about asking Harley to go along. She wasn't a master tracker yet, but she had a good eye and often spotted little details he missed. He could find her. He would find her. He refused to think about the alternative. About losing Carol like they lost her daughter.

"Rick saw her last," River answered. As Daryl charged past her out of his cell she caught his arm to keep him from storming away. "It's more complicated than that," she added. Daryl stopped pulling and turned to her for an explanation.

"Spit it the fuck out River," he demanded. His words came out more harshly than he intended. River yanked her hand from his arm and flinched, making him immediately regret his coarse tone.

"Rick kicked her out of the group and tole her not ta come back 'ere." River managed to spit the words out before she sucked her lip back in a bit it hard enough to make it bleed.

"What in the fuckin' hell would he do that for?," Daryl asked, struggling to keep his tone more even. Daryl had a bad temper. It was a trait he and Merle had in common. That said, Daryl had never lost it with his sister in law and he didn't want to start today. River didn't deserve that shit from Merle and she sure as hell didn't deserve it from him. Daryl reached into his back pocket and pulled out his hanky, pressing it to the bleeding corner of her lip. It had been a long time since he had seen River with a bloody lip. The last time it had been bleeding because Merle popped her one after she caught him using.

"She killed David and Karen," River said, her voice muffled by the hanky Daryl was pressing to her mouth. He was shaking his head, refusing to believe what he had just been told. River cut him off before he could object. "She did it. I know 'cause I helped her." River felt the tears rush into her eyes. She had never felt so horribly guilty about something in her entire life. She wasn't upset about helping Carol burn the bodies. That had been a necessary evil. River was upset because Carol had taken the full blame for it and now she might be dead or lost forever because of it.

"You killed people?," Daryl asked. River shook her head and sobbed harder. He adjusted the strap of his crossbow and pulled her into a rough embrace, squeezing her against his chest. "S'alright."

"David was already dead. Karen was choking to death on her own blood. It was so fucking bad. I didn't kill them. But I helped Carol burn the bodies. We didn't want anyone else getting infected by burying them."

Anyone else. Daryl knew what that meant. It meant him. He was the one that took on the task of burying bodies. There were so many he knew people would want to throw them on the burn pile. And for some reason that really bothered him. They were decent people and they deserved a decent burial. Carol and River had burned them to keep him safe.

River wasn't frail but she wasn't a large woman by any means. And Carol was even tinier. Those bodies had been dragged a long way. That's why Daryl had thought the killer must have been a large man. His money was on Tyreese himself. The man just seemed a little unhinged. Now that he knew the girls had done it, Daryl wasn't sure how to feel. He didn't want to let himself feel good about it. That just felt wrong. But he could admit that he was impressed. They were stronger than he would have given them credit for. Physically and mentally.

"Why would Rick do that?," Daryl asked.

He asked but he quickly decided he didn't care about the answer. He pulled back the arm he had been using to hold River against his chest. Daryl could feel the anger boiling up inside of him. Keeping his temper in check was a constant battle. The end of the world actually made it easier, like Harley had done with sports, he was able to take out his agression on the walkers. What Daryl hated to admit was that it felt good to be angry. Not after. After he calmed down he always felt bad. But during a rage he felt whole. The anger filled all the empty places inside of him. Daryl heard River yelling after him. He had bumped into her with his shoulder when he spun to start storming off down the corridor. She was rubbing her jaw and yelling at him to stop. Not to do anything crazy. He heard her yelling but he didn't stop.


	36. Chapter 36

Red River Blue

Chapter 36

"Where's yer sister?," River asked. Her hand was pressed against her face, holding pressure on the side of her jaw where Daryl's shoulder had rocketed into it. River hoped it wouldn't leave a bruise. No matter what she said, if there was a bruise on her face people would think Merle hit her. River didn't know exactly what had happened between her husband and Glenn, but whatever it was both him and Maggie seemed determined not to let it go. They had spread some rumors around and because of the obvious crook in her nose where River has been hit all those years ago the rumors were easy to believe. She tried to remember that other people's opinions didn't matter to her, but the truth was it made River angry to know people were talking about her and Merle behind their backs. Merle had done everything he could for these people, but sometimes River felt like no matter what he did it was never going to be enough.

"She went out earlier to check her snares," Wren answered. The worried look on her mother's face had her up off her bunk and on her feet in seconds. Carl popped up behind her. River cursed under her breath. Daryl was her top concern at the moment so she decided to ignore the fact that Wren and Carl were reading together on her bunk again. Alone in her room with the curtain pulled most of the way closed. One crisis at a time was enough.

"What's wrong?," Carl asked. His hand moved instinctively to rest lightly on the gun that was strapped to his belt as he moved half a step in front of Wren. He had spent enough time around Wren's parents to know her mother didn't panic for no reason.

"Daryl's after yer dad," River admitted.

"Over Carol?," Carl asked. River nodded, wondering how much the boy knew and where he had gotten his information. She didn't really want her daughters knowing she had burned the bodies of two people after watching Carol stab one of them in the head. Not because she was worried about what they might think of her, but because she wanted to spare them from as much of the horror of this new world as she could. Carl turned toward Wren, nudging her towards the corner where Harley kept her personal belongings. "Get that stun gun your sister has," he told the girl.

River thought about asking Wren what in the hell Harley was doing with a stun gun, but figured the answer was obvious. Harley was probably keeping it for protection or planning to shock the shit out of someone that had pissed her off. Either situation was equally likely. Wren pulled out a small black rectangular device from under a neatly folded pile of her sister's clothing and placed it into her mother's outstretched hand. River turned the device around in her hands until she found the button that turned it on. Being careful not to get her hands too close to the live end, she pressed the button on the side resulting in an audible zapping noise.

Now that she was armed with the ability to stop two grown men from fighting, River turned on her heel and started running in the direction Daryl had taken. Half filled with concern for their family members and half excited to see a possible altercation, Wren and Carl hurried along behind her. River was breathing hard by the time she got to the door that led outside her cell block and into the courtyard. The humidity of the hot georgia morning hit her in the face like a wet washcloth and she had to slow down her pace in order to catch her breath.

Despite the heat, River felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle up. Something didn't feel right outside. At the time River couldn't put her finger on what was wrong. She would realize later that all the walkers were missing from the fenceline. Cleared out by the man that was about to attack them and destroy their home. But at the time she was too busy chasing after Daryl to take notice of her surroundings. Circling around the outside of the building, River rushed into Rick's cellblock. But she was already too late to stop the fight.

Several people were standing around with shocked looks on their faces. Rick and Daryl were up on the catwalk struggling with each other. Daryl must have come at Rick without warning because he had Rick's body pinned against the bars of someone's cell, punching him repeatedly in the side of his body. Glenn was yelling for them to stop, but he didn't look eager to get physically involved.

"Where's Hershel?," River asked, shouldering Glenn out of her way so she could get to the metal stairs that led up to the catwalk. When she asked where Herhsel was, she didn't really want an answer. She wanted Glenn to go get the man. Daryl would listen to Hershel. At least she hoped he would. Anger ran in the family but while Merle had the shorter fuse, Daryl's was much harder to put out once it had been ignited. River knew he probably wasn't going to listen to her.

"Stop it!," River hollered. She wasn't too happy with Rick herself, but getting into a fight with him wasn't going to bring Carol home. Daryl was stronger and bigger than her, but River grabbed the arm he was using to punch Rick with both her hands and put all her body weight into keeping him from swinging again. Her mistake was she forgot that she was holding the taser in her right hand. When she grabbed Daryl, she squeezed down on the trigger button and shocked him hard on the inner flesh of his upper arm. She also managed to shock herself quite badly on the hand.

River yelped and dropped the stun gun on her own foot, feeling the stinging pain shoot through the baby toe on her right foot. Daryl had not only been punching Rick, he had his other arm on the man's throat. Once he was able to get a full breath of air in, Rick realized his body was no longer pinned against the bars of the cell. Since he felt he was acting in self defense and was in more than a slight panic at the thought of almost being choked to death, he fought back without fully assessing the situation. Rick swung once and missed Daryl's face by a hair. Then he punched low. This time he made contact, hitting Daryl in the gut and sending him falling backwards.

Daryl slammed into River. She was already off balance and the weight of his body sent her tumbling over the guard rail and almost onto the cement floor below. She managed to catch the top bar with the one hand that hadn't just been shocked with thousands of volts of electricity. Her body swung down and her ribs slammed into the lower bar on the guard rail. River let out a strangled yelp. She was fighting to breathe and she could feel her fingers slipping. River knew if she fell she was done. She focused all her energy on not letting go of the metal bar in her hand. The fall was too high and the floor was too hard. She would break her ankles at the very least. And a broken ankle was a death sentence.

River felt a strong hand grip her wrist just as the bar slipped from her fingers. Then the loud rip as the armpit seams of her shirt gave way. She looked up. Rick and Daryl were pulling her back up and over the guard rail together. Daryl grabbed her by the wrist and Rick had leaned over and taken hold of her by the back of the shirt like she was a naughty kitten being carried away by it's mother. Soon two pairs of strong hands were gripping her and she felt herself lifted back up and over the rail like she weighed nothing at all. Her feet hit the floor with a squeak before she felt her knees going out from under her. Daryl steadied her on her feet with an arm around her waist. Then Wren was rushing into her arms.

Hugging her daughter close, River glanced up at the two men that had just saved her from a nasty fall. Both still appeared angry, but at least they were keeping their hands to themselves. For now.

"Y'all should shake hands," River said, offering up her opinion on the matter.

"Ain't shakin' his fuckin' hand," Daryl grumbled. Maybe once Carol was back safe and Rick had apologized to her. Maybe then Daryl would shake his hand. Then again maybe not. He had forgiven Rick for the incident involving Merle's hand. But he had not forgotten it. Putting Carol in possible danger was just another bullshit thing Rick had done in a long list of bullshit things.

Before the conversation could go any further the floor under all of their feet shook. A loud boom and the smell of smoke had people running and ducking for cover. The prison was under attack.

TWD

Harley liked being alone in the woods. She had never cared much for being around large groups of people. Not even back in regular life. That was the main reason she hated high school. And living at the prison was basically like living in high school all the time. The gossiping. The stares. All day every day people were in her face. It made her stir crazy. She knew she wasn't really supposed to go out by herself. But sometimes she just needed space to breathe.

The day was hot and muggy, but it was cooler under the shade of the tall trees that surrounded the prison. The snares hadn't been very lucky lately. Her uncle Daryl said in his simple and direct way of speaking that they were trying to feed too many people off a patch of land that was simply too small to support their needs. The woods closest to the prison were getting over hunted and the nearby lakes and streams were getting over fished.

Most people were scared to go too far outside the prison. But not Harley. She simply marked herself a path, carving little arrows in the trees and painting them with a bottle of Wren's hello kitty pink glitter nail polish. Instead of setting her snares in the area right outside the fences, like most people had been doing, she walked a few miles away and set them.

The walk out usually took her about a half hour. The walk back often took longer, depending on how many walkers the smell of the game she was carrying attracted. The first dead ones she saw were smashed together in a small cluster. Once corner of Harley's mouth kicked up into a grin. The dead didn't gather together for no reason. Seeing them meant she had probably gotten something in her first trap.

Harley was careful to stay far enough back that she didn't have to worry. She pulled an arrow from the sheath on her back and notched it in her bow. As her arms and shoulders moved Harley could feel the lightweight shirt she was wearing sticking to the skin on her back, which was damp with a light sheen of sweat. They were all constantly trying to find the balance between dressing for the hot and humid georgia heat and keeping the skin of their bodies protected. A leather jacket could save you from getting scratched by a walker. But it could also make you sick from heat exhaustion.

On this particular day Harley had dressed for comfort. She wore long tank top that dipped down low on the armpit areas of the sides, exposing the sides of the bra she had taken from some silly boutique style shop downtown near the fancy baby store they had been looting for Judith. She had laughed her ass off at the three hundred and twenty dollar price tag on the thing. But once she had it on she quickly decided she could get used to being rich. Not only was it the most comfortable bra she had ever worn. But it looked good on her too.

Harely had never spent much time looking in the mirror. But once she was alone she had stripped off her clothes and taken a good long look at herself in the mirror. Just to see what such expensive undercothes looked like. It had been so long since she looked in the mirror that she almost didn't recognize the person staring back at her. The tall slim girl that had finally grown into her nose just like her mother always told her that she would. Her full breasts still looked a little too big for her frame. But they were balanced out now by the curve of her hips, which had filled in as the world emptied out. Her hair was still unruly but the weight of the length and not washing it as often as she used to had tamed the curls down.

Looking at herself in the mirror, dressed up in a fancy bra and panties set like she was getting ready for a date, made her feel a funny tingling down in the bottom of her stomach. It felt so foreign she had immediately turned away from the mirror and yanked her ratty pajamas on to cover her naked flesh. As she walked out to check her snares she had been thinking about it. Thinking but mostly trying not to think. Trying to push thoughts of the dreams she kept having out of her mind. Dreams of some faceless handsome boy reaching around behind her back and unsnapping the tiny gold hooks of her fancy lace trimmed bra. She could never see his face but he was tall and he had strong shoulders and gentle hands. Even if there had been someone she liked back at the prison, which there was not, Harely reminded herself that she had no time for boys. Boys were nothing but trouble. Her mother had ground that into her head since she was still in pigtails.

Harley felt the muscles in her back. They bunched together, strong from all the time she spent working at the prison and hunting in the woods. She practiced shooting her old bow enough that she was strong enough to use a long bow now. Her compound bow with the girly pullies and wheels had been handed down to Wren. Holding an arrow notched in her bow, Harley was reminded of something she felt she had forgotten when she was staring at her body in the mirror. There was nothing wrong with looking pretty. But her body was good for so much more that being some kind of ordament. Her body was strong.

Harley stared down the shaft of her arrow, setting her sights on the walker she wanted to take down first. A slight whoosh of air sounded as she released the first arrow. She was already pulling another arrow from her sheath as the sastifying thunk of her first arrow hitting it's target broke through the silence of the woods around her.

Stepping over the pile of walkers on the ground around her, Harley knelt down and checked the first trap. She mostly had snares. But she had set up a few live traps too, taken from the back room of a mostly looted tractor supply store. Seeing the walkers gathered around had been promising. But sadly there was only a very scared looking cat inside Harley's trap. It's fur was long and near the tail end, the animal was covered in burrs. Harley sighed and looked in at it's big frightened eyes.

For a moment Harley considered killing and skinning the animal. When it was all said and done, meat was meat. But once the cat let out a sad little howl Harley's compassion took over. She set the cage down and clicked her tounge at the animal, trying to coax it from the cage without reaching in and grabbing it. The cat howed again, sounding even more miserable than it had before.

"Yer lucky Glenn's not here," Harley informed the small animal, "He'd eatcha fer sure." Harley giggled at her own bad joke, glad her mother wasn't around to hear her and scold her dad about it later. Everyone knew Asian people ate cats. Her dad hadn't told her that. She had seen that shit right there on the history channel.

Coaxed by the gentle timber of Harley's voice, the cat slowly eased itself out of the trap and darted off into the closest bush. Harley reset the trap with a dollop of spam, hoping to catch better than a cat the next time she came out. The next trap she checked was empty. But Harley got lucky with her snares. By the time she started walking back towards the prison she had two fat rabbits and a groundhog hanging over her shoulder.

Harley rather stay out in the woods all day, but she hadn't told her mother she was leaving. If she didn't turn up by lunch time, she knew her mother would probably have every redneck in the damn place out looking for her. So Harley headed back towards the prison. She headed back but she took her time, walking leisuely and humming a song to herself that she had been trying to work out some lyrics for.

It had been months since they ran into any people outside the small group. And the last person they brought in was Bob. The man was a worthless drunk but he wasn't exactly a threat. That in combination with the warmth of the sunny day and her happiness at having caught dinner lured Harley into a false sense of security. She always listened for walkers, especially when she had fresh game on her. But if she had been listening more carefully instead of humming and singing to herself she would have realized she was being followed before it was too late.


	37. Chapter 37

Red River Blue

Chapter 37

 ****There is some sexual violence in this chapter. Nothing more intense than what has been on the show but I thought I would throw up a warning anyway. There is also a nod to the hunger games in this chapter. Big thanks to everyone that has taken the time to leave a review so far. I haven't checked my stats in a while and was really excited to see I had almost a hundred followers on this story. Since a lot are new readers I'm guessing you might be Daryl/Carol shippers. I feel like it's taking forever but don't worry I swear they are going to happen eventually in this story. ****

She smelled them before she heard them. Human body odor had the potential to smell as bad as walkers sometimes but they were still two very distinct and different scents. As Harley walked the wind picked up, blowing hard enough to make the leaves on the smaller trees around her dance. Along with the smell of the greenery and the smell of pine, she breathed in the very distinguishable smell of someone that hadn't had a bath since the last time it rained and hadn't changed his clothes in longer than that.

Harley paused, frozen in place and listening to the woods around her much more carefully than she had been a few moments before. The prison was still well over a mile away, too far for anyone to hear her if she screamed. She was alone and she knew no one was coming to save her. Harley's hand moved slowly down, getting a solid grip on the knife in her belt. Bending her knees slightly she listened, hoping that there wasn't more than one person following her.

Sensing that she was onto him and that the game was over, a man stepped forward. A branch cracked under the heavy tread of his boot and Harley flicked her head in his direction. The long braided rope of her hair swung back behind her shoulder. The man she spotted was average height for a guy, so slightly shorter than her. But he was still much heavier.

She flicked her eyes over the man, taking in what information she could gather from his appearance. He had long hair and a dark scraggly beard. He was overdressed for the warm weather, which she knew meant he was living on the road. A nomad without a group or a home. Hoping that there was some small chance that the man might just be hungry, Harley slipped the rope that was holding the two rabbits together down her arm and let the animals drop to the ground with a quiet thump. And even if he wasn't hungry she knew the man might hesitate between taking the food and chasing her, which would buy her a few extra seconds headstart.

Harley flinched back the way she had come, making the man surge in that direction. It was a trick she knew from playing basketball. Rotating the flinch into one fluid movement she darted back in the direction of the prison. Harely knew the terrain and she was a fast runner. If she got ahead of the man she knew he was never going to be able to catch her. But before she made it even a few more steps she slammed directly into the body of a second man that had stepped into her path.

The man's large hand clamped down on the bare skin of her upper arm, dirty fingernails digging into her flesh. Harley's hand was already on the handle of her knife. She jerked it out and slammed it into the man. He managed to deflect the blow from hitting him square in the center of the chest. When Harley stabbed someone she aimed to kill. She missed his heart. But he wasn't lucky enough to escape being stabbed altogether. Her knife had been freshly sharpened by her very bored and bedridden father. The glinting blade cut through the material of the man's shirt before it sunk deep into his shoulder, buried into his flesh all the way up to the hilt. The man hollered in pain and slumped to the ground. Harley lost her grip on her knife as he fell, her hand now slippery with fresh blood.

When she jerked away from the man's grasp the strap of Harley's backpack slipped from her shoulder. She jerked her other shoulder and let the bag drop the rest of the way to the ground. Whatever was inside wasn't worth dying for and Harley knew she could run even faster if she was unhindered. Before she could take another step she was seized roughly by the long braid of her hair that hung halfway down her back. Her neck jerked painfully and she yelped as she fought against whoever was pulling her forcefully backwards. Then she felt the muzzle of a gun pressing into her neck as the man adjusted his grip on her hair to keep her from running away.

"That's about a fucking 'nuff of that," the man hissed. Harley started calculating the odds in her head, trying the guess how long the man had been on the road from the very bad smell of him. She decided there was about a fifty fifty chance of him still having any bullets left in the gun that he was now jamming into the side of her head as he breathed his nasty shit breath close enough that she could smell it.

"Bet you don't even have any fuckin' bullets," Harley hissed back, jabbing her elbow into the man's ribs as she tried to twist away and loosen the man's grip on her hair. The man called her bluff. He tossed her to the ground like a rag doll and shot at the dirt next to her. Then he pointed the gun at her and laughed. While she was focused on the man with the gun, another man came from the side and slammed the hard toe of his boot into her ribs, tossing Harley onto her stomach. Harley had taken a few hard hits when she was playing sports but she had never had anyone kick her with the intention of causing her as much pain and injury as possible. She grunted instead of screaming like a little girl and tried her best not to throw up.

The man with the gun grabbed Harley and flipped her over onto her back, sitting down on top of her to keep her from running away. He pointed his gun at her but his attention was directed at his companions. A man she hadn't seen yet was tussling with the man that kicked her, angry that the man had _marked her up before he got his turn._ The kicking man was yelling about her stabbing someone named Tony.

"Shut it the fuck down," the man on top of her yelled, "You can kick the shit out of her _after_ we get done!" The man who had kicked her swore under his breath and shoved at the other man one more time. Then to Harley's disgust he stomped over and grabbed her arms, pinning them to the ground above her head. The man on top of her tossed his gun a few feet away. Harley watched it bounce away into the dry leaves, thinking it might as well be a hundred miles away. She was never going to be able to get ahold of it with one disgusting ass pig on top of her and another one holding her arms down.

Harley's mind raced. She considered every possible course of action she could think of but nothing was coming to mind that was going to get her out of the horrible situation that she was in. She could try screaming. There was a small chance someone might hear her if they were outside the fences far enough. Or it might attract enough walkers to distract the men. But it would probably just earn her another kick to the ribs and she could already barely breathe from the first blow. So she kept her mouth shut. She couldn't fight. Her arms and body were pinned to the ground. The only part of her that was free was her legs. And right now her heels were scraping uselessly against the dirt.

The man on top of Harley looked down at her. He had a sickening smile. A lock of greasy grey hair mopped down into his face, bobbing as he moved. The first thing he did was pull a flask from his vest pocket and took a large swig from it. Then he offered the flask to Harley with another laugh. She turned her head to the side as the man attempted to forcibly pour the liquor down her throat. Most of it splashed around on her face but some of it made it's way into her mouth. It tasted like liquid fire and Harley gagged on the first drink she ever had in her life.

Bored with humiliating her, the man returned the flask to the pocket he had retrieved it from. He reached down and gripped the neckline of her shirt, ripping it open to expose the lacy black bra she was wearing underneath. The man clucked his approval. It wasn't every day that they managed to snatch up a girl this young and attractive and it was even less often that they caught one that was clean and dressed in appealing looking undergarments. If the other men in his group weren't so fucking eager to destroy everything and everyone they came across he might have considered keeping the girl around for a while and having his way with her more than once.

The man moved his filthy hands down her torso to the button of her jeans. Harley tried twisting and wiggling to get away but the man only laughed harder at her. He was hunched over, torso raised slightly higher than it had been before as he yanked as her pants trying to pull them down. She finally had a little more room to move her legs and Harley bent one knee, sliding her foot up through the dirt. She might have been able to knee him and getaway even without a distraction. But there was a distraction.

A loud echoing boom sounded through the forest, shaking the trees and the ground under Harley's back. The men all turned their heads away from her, looking off into the woods and making guesses as to what might have made the noise. Harley saw her chance and took it. She brought her knee up as hard and fast as she could, slamming it into the balls of the man that was on top of her. Luck had been with her when the governor chose that moment to fire at the prison. And it was with her again when her knee not only found it's target but sent the head of the man she had kneed slamming into the face of the man that was holding her arms down and breaking his nose with a sickening crunch.

Yanking her arms free, Harley slammed her fists into the face of the man that had ripped her shirt. One after the other, punching his eye and cutting her the knuckles of her other hand on his unbrushed teeth. She brought her knee up again, hitting him hard where it counted and shoving him off her. Another man made a grab for her but she was already on her feet. Adrenaline surged through her body, sending her flying through the woods. Her shirt ballooned out behind her like a superhero cape. But her burst of energy only got her a few yards away before she was gripping her kicked ribs and gasping for breath. She couldn't run. And if she couldn't run those men were going to catch her. And if they caught her they were going to kill her. She didn't want to think about what they were going to do before they killed her.

Harley forced her body forward, her eyes scanning for any possbile escape. A huge tree loomed up ahead. One she recognized. There was a rough wooden ladder on the side of it, leading up to a tree stand that she and her Uncle Daryl used to sit and wait for deer to come and nibble at the heaps of scraps they left out to try and bait them. Harley grabbed at the wooden planks and pulled herself up, wincing at the pain in her side. She climbed, not stopping even when she was standing on the treestand. Higher and higher she went until she was sure she was up too far for the men to reach her. She was tall for a girl, but she was light. They would break the branches and fall if they tried to climb up after her.

With the men below less of a threat now that they couldn't get to her, Harley looked out over the tops of the shorter trees. There was a huge plume of dark black smoke rising up from the prison. She could see a small group of people had gathered outside the fences in a threatening formation. One of the vehicles they had was a tank.

Harley glanced down. The men that had tried to rape her were gathered loosely around the base of the tree, looking up at her. Harley felt the anger starting to swell up inside her, along with a fair amount of fear. Not of the men below but for her family back home in the prison. Her little sister was in there. Wren was a pain in the ass sometimes but it was still Harley's job to protect her. She needed to get home right now. And the men below were stopping her from doing that. Nothing in her life had ever felt as bad as knowing the people she cared about might be in danger and there was nothing she could do but sit in a tree and watch them burn.

"Come on down before we have to come up and get ya," one man hollered up at her. Another man had taken her bow from where she had dropped it along with her bag. He tried to fire an arrow up at her but the branches below her were far too thick for him to get any kind of decent shot off. His nose was bleeding down his face and Harley figured the more noise he and his friends made the better. The walkers would hear them and then they would smell the blood and more would come. If she was lucky too many would come and she would get to see these assholes get eaten alive.

"Go ahead and try it," Harley taunted. Hoping to get the men to yell some more, she added on an insult, "Yer probably glad I climbed up here so yer friends wouldn't find that yer really a faggot!"

Harley's comment had the desired result. The man's friends started laughing and the man started yelling back up at her. Two walkers stumbled almost right into the men before the man with the grey hair got wise to what Harley was doing and shut his men the hell up. He pulled his gun out and aimed up at her. Harley didn't think he would be able to hit her through all the branches but she swung herself around to the other side of the trunk just in case.

Gripping the branch she had grabbed tighter, Harley yelped at a sudden stinging pain in her ankle. Leaning back from the trunk she looked below her feet. The branch she had just bounced on had a large beehive hanging from it. She was surprised to see one with bees in it. Wren and Carl had hunted out almost every beehive in the area on their never ending quest for honey to put on the breakfast biscuits Carol made for them, bland because they were running low on salt. Harley figured the only reason they hadn't gotten the one under her feet was because it was up dangerously high in the tree she had climbed.

Harley's first instinct was to swing back around the other side of the tree, away from the beehive before it's inhabitants got angry. But then she heard the sound of gunshots being fired in the distance. Her home was being attacked. She knew the men below would eventually get bored and leave if the walkers didn't chase them off. But she didn't have the time to wait them out.

If she didn't want to get stung a million times, Harly knew she was only going to need to knock the hive down with one good kick. Her ankle was already burning something fierce only from the one sting. A hundred like it might kill her or at least hurt her badly enough to make her fall. Harley bent her knees, taking hold of a lower branch with her hands. She hissed her pain. Bending at the ribs was so painful that little white dots swam in front of her eyes. Harley took a few deep breaths, ignoring the men below that were once again hollering up at her.

Lifting her foot from the branch she tottered slightly as her balance was questioned. Then she stomped her foot down on the top of the beehive as hard as she could. Harley was scared she might rip the hive in half, but it detached cleanly from the branch it was hanging from. The hive tumbled down through the branches.

"What in the hell is that?," Harley heard one of them men ask his companion. She smiled, knowing he was about to find out exactly what was coming at him.

The hive suffered enough damage on the way down that when it hit the ground it broke wide open. An army of angry bees swarmed out, engulfing the group of men near the bottom of the tree. Within moments they were all running away through the woods, waving at the air and swatting at themselves to try and get the bees off. The man Harley stabbed in the shoulder couldn't run. He fell down and started rolling around on the ground screaming. His screams attracted more than just the bees. Harley climbed down much more slowly than she had climbed up, minding her hurt ribs and watching to make sure none of the other men had come back. While the walkers ripped the injured man apart, Harley dropped quielty to the ground and took off in the direction of the prison.


	38. Chapter 38

Red River Blue

Chapter 38

"I have to go out there," Carl said, his voice growing higher with urgency towards the end of his statement. He wasn't pulling his hand from Wren's tight grasp yet, but he was pleading with his eyes for her to understand and let him go. He didn't want to leave her alone. He was going because he felt he had to go. "I'm a good shot. Better than most of them. I can help, I can fight." Wren nodded her head reluctantly. Instead of letting go, she pulled Carl's hand towards her, guiding it around her waist before she let go of it and wrapped her slim arms around his neck.

Since their first kiss in the adminstration building they had been kissing each other every day. They snuck into the cell near the kitchen that served as a food pantry to kiss. They kissed in the library. In the dark hallway that led outside into the woods. And earlier that morning they had kissed each other while they were reading comics in Wren's bunk. While the other kisses had been brief stolen moments, the one that happened that morning had been long and lingering. Carl had been able to taste the sugary sweet chocolate bar that Wren had been taking tiny little bites of. Letting the candy melt in her mouth to make it last longer. It was the kind of kiss that made Carl wonder why pressing his lips to the lips of another person made him feel funny in all the other parts of his body.

Thinking about the kiss again, Carl wrapped his arms around Wren's waist and crushed the girl against his chest. The added fear and desperation of the situation swirled together with his already overcharged hormones, leaving him feeling fiercely protective and more determined than ever to make sure nothing bad happened to the girl in his arms. His lips found hers. This time there was no tentative hesitation in his kiss. He pressed his lips down hard on Wren's, cupping the back of her head with his hand. When he pulled back Carl felt like the room was spinning around them and it took him a moment to gain his composure.

"Take this," he said, pulling his gun from the holster on his thigh and pressing the cold metal into Wren's hand. There were tears in her eyes that he was trying to pretend he didn't see.

"No," Wren argued, trying to push the gun back at him, "You need it if yer goin' out there." Carl shook his head, assuring her that he could get a rifle from one of the barrels outside. He didn't want to leave her alone inside at all and he wasn't going to leave her unarmed.

"Stay here," Carl told her, moving Wren inside the doorway of the cell where the other children were hiding. Wren's mother had hustled them into one cell together and told them to stay quiet before she took off runnning for the outside door. "Watch my sister for me and if anyone comes in here, blast the shit outta them." Wren nodded, glancing into the cell. Mika was holding Judith on her lap with two of the younger children crowded in on either side of her. Lizzie was pacing back and forth across the tiny space like one of the big cats they kept in cages at the zoo.

"But what if you don't come back?," Wren asked. The area of the prison they were in had not been hit as hard as the section that took a direct blast. But she could still smell the smoke and the gunpowder from where the man outside had fired on them with a much more powerful weapon than anything they had in their arsenol.

"I'm coming back," Carl assured her, "I promise." He remembered a movie he had seen once. The exact plot was hard to recall but he was sure of one thing. The young man in the film had been leaving to go to war. After a kiss, he had taken off the dog tags he wore around his neck and put them around the neck of the young woman he was eager to come back home to. Carl had given Wren his gun, but that didn't feel the same. It didn't feel like enough. But Carl didn't have dog tags like the man in the movie. He didn't really have anything that belonged to him besides the clothes on his back and the hat on his head. Carl's face lit up. He pulled the hat off his head and plunked it down on top of Wren's pigtail braids. "I'll be back for my hat," he announced.

Wren used one hand to keep the hat from falling off her head as she leaned forward and pressed one more kiss to Carl's lips. He kissed her back, just one quick smash of his lips against hers. Then he turned and ran for the outside door. As he disappeared, Wren heard the sound of gunfire coming from outside the building. The noise spooked her and she got a better grip on the gun in her hands.

"Those people are here to kill us," Lizzie announced. Wren spun to face the girl, still wiping the tears from her eyes. "We should all have guns," Lizzie added. Wren noticed the other kids were looking at her to see what she thought about Lizzie's sudden declaration. Wren swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly feeling dry. Lizzie was crazy. But that didn't mean she was wrong.

"My mom and Carol hid a box of extra guns and bullets in the kitchen," Wren said. Lizzie nodded and started towards the door, but Wren stuck her arm out to keep the other girl from leaving. "We should pack Judith's bag first in case we need to run for it." Lizzie glanced back at the baby like she couldn't care less, but then she shrugged and nodded her head. With the promise of getting a gun fresh on her mind, Lizzie was eager to agree with whatever plan would make that happen. She and Wren each yanked down empty bags from a shelf and began stuffing formula and cloth diapers inside.

TWD

If she would have been forced to recount the events of the battle, River didn't think she would be able to. The beginning of it was the most clear in her mind. She had never been a very good shot. So instead of trying to shoot people, she was helping the people that were too old or too sick onto the large school bus they planned to use to flee the area. River was half dragging half walking one old woman, a former woodbury resident, out to the bus when she heard a pop. Either someone had shot that old woman on purpose, or she had been caught in the crossfire. The woman's blood splattered the front of River's shirt and splashed down her thigh. River let the old woman slump to the ground. She was still holding pressure on the wound when the woman reanimated and tried to bite her. From that point on the rest of what happened was a blur.

The fog was thick around them, making it impossible to see more than a few feet away. They stood in a roughly formed circle, facing out. Killing one walker after another after another. The walkers just kept coming. River shot them with her gun until she ran out of bullets and the gun started making a hollow clicking noise. Since she didn't shoot at anyone during the battle, River had more bullets left than the rest the small group of people she had somehow ended up fleeing the prison with. But now even she was out. Shoving the gun into the back of her shorts, River pulled a hunting knife from the sheath at her waist. The knife was Merle's and holding it in her hand made her breath hitch in her chest before she regained control of her emotions. She would find her family. But first she had to survive this moment. River reminded herself that she couldn't find her husband or her girls if she was dead.

"We should boil that water first," Sasha scolded. Now that the fog had lifted and the small herd of walkers was dead, River was kneeling down in front of a small creek, lifting handful after handful of the clear running water up to her mouth with her cupped hands. She was wearing a pair of cutoff denim shorts that were frayed at the edges. As she bent down low to drink from the stream, the shorts left her thighs and most of the underside of her ass exposed. Sasha glanced at Bob. He had a huge smile on his face despite the still weeping wound on his shoulder. But instead of looking aroused by the skimpy attire of the woman in front of him, he seemed instead to be rather amused by the entire situation.

"I been drinkin' from cricks my whole life," River announced, reaching down for another handful of water, "and it ain't killed me yet." Sasha might be good with a gun. But she wasn't fooling anyone. She was a city girl. Prissy and afraid of a little bit of unboiled water. River had seen her big bear of a brother scream like a little girl over a tiny little racer snake some of the kids found in the garden. It had taken every ounce of self control she had not to laugh her ass off at him. River had never seen a grown man act afraid of a snake like that before. Merle and Daryl used to catch copperheads by their tails and swing them against the trunks of trees to kill them.

"At least it's not stagnant water," Maggie added. Like River she was far too thirsty to wait. And boiling water was going to take more time than she wanted to spend. She needed to find Glenn and she needed to find him now. She didn't have time to waste.

With her rabid thirst finally quenched, River lifted one more handful of water and splashed it onto her neck, trying to scrub away some of the blood that had dried on her skin. She repeated this process a few times while Maggie knelt down next to her and got herself a drink. River took a moment to observe the other woman.

River didn't like Maggie. The two women might have been from the same state but as far as River was concerned Maggie was from a different planet. She had grown up privileged. Maybe not silver spoon in the mouth privileged, but her family had lived in a big house and had enough money to send Maggie to a private college. River could hear it in her voice when Maggie spoke. They didn't even have the same accent. But none of these things were the reason River disliked the woman kneeling next to her.

The reason River avoided Maggie was because of the way Maggie looked at her. Maggie was not only a bit of a snob, but she was a self-righteous little bitch to boot. And River hated the way Maggie turned her nose up at her and her girls. Like she felt sorry for them. Even as she ate the food that River's husband and brother-in-law had been responsible for bringing in, Maggie still looked at the whole lot of them like they weren't good enough to sit at the same table as her. River usually did her best to ignore the woman. Until now. She needed Maggie's help. So ignoring her was no longer an option.

"We should check my camper first," River announced, pulling a hankercheif from her back pocket and wiping her face with it before she tied it around her neck, leaving the loose end pointing down towards her cleavage. "Then we can try and follow the bus."

Maggie took one more sip of water before she sat back with her butt in the dirt. She stared at River and River stared back at her. River's tone had made it obvious that she wasn't any more happy about teaming up with Maggie than Maggie was about becoming her new partner. But they both needed to find their familes. And neither of them could do it alone.

"I'd rather look for the bus first," Maggie complained.

"Yeah. Well my camper's closer and there's a whole mess of emergency supplies inside," River countered. Maggie nodded and pulled herself up from the ground. She offered River a hand up but River ignored the gesture and chose to boost herself up from the soft dirt of the creekbed without assistance. Leaning forward, River brushed the dirt off her knees and thighs, trying not to look at the old woman's dried blood all over the front of her shirt.

Without waiting for permission from Sasha, the two women started off into the woods, walking back in the general direction of the prison. Sasha tried to call after them. The prison was swarming with walkers. That was the last direction they ought to be going. Bob shrugged the one shoulder that he could move without causing himself pain. Then to Sasha's absolute horror he started off after the two lunatics, turning back once to smile his signature overly happy grin at her.

"Come on Sasha," he called back, "its not like we have anything else better to do."


	39. Chapter 39

Red River Blue

Chapter 39

"I can take 'er for a while," Wren offered, holding her hands out so that Tyreese could hand Carl's baby sister off to her without having to strain his injured arm too much. "She's not that heavy," Wren assured the man.

Tyreese looked winded. But that wasn't the only reason Wren had offered to carry Judith for him. Tyreese was a very nice man. But he had cut his arm badly during the fight. Even though Wren had wrapped it as tightly as she could without cutting off the circulation to his hand, he was still bleeding. Blood was weeping through her hastily applied bandages. Wren didn't know as much about the dead as her older sister did, but there was one thing she knew for sure. The dead were attracted to the smell of blood. Wren didn't want any of it to get on baby Judith.

Judith was heavier than she looked. Holding her took both of Wren's arms, leaving no hand free to fight if a walker stumbled upon them. Wren stopped, gesturing for Mika to hand her the back pack she was wearing on her back. Instead of taking it off, Mika turned around and moved close enough that Wren could unzip the bag and poke through it until she found what she was looking for. Judith was partial to one particular baby blanket. It was actually a large multicolored scarf with an attractive geometric style print on it. Michonne had brought it back from one of her many exploration trips and given it to the little girl.

Wren pulled the blankie from the bag, thankful that the fabric had a little stretch to it and that she had packed the item despite the fact that Lizzie was rushing her and telling her she was packing too much. She zipped the bag back up, then changed her hold on Judith. Wren balanced the girl in an awkward postion, against her chest facing towards her with her little legs dangling down on either side of Wren's slim waist. Then she laid the scarf blanket against the little girl's body. It only took Mika a moment to figure out what Wren was trying to do. She moved behind the other girl and grabbed the scarf, looping it around Wren's neck and crossing it behind her back. The loose ends were tied in a knot under Judith's diaper bottom to support her weight.

"Good thinking," Tyreese told the girls. He didn't want to admit it, but he was secretly grateful that Wren was a member of his little group. She wasn't as fierce as her older sister, but the younger of the two Dixon girls was still smart and resourceful. Tyreese had seen Wren around the prison enough to know that she was always eager to help others and could cook better than most grown women he knew. She didn't hunt, but she went out foraging with Rick's son a lot and they always seemed to be able to find something edible to bring back. Since Tyreese wasn't exactly what most people would consider to be outdoorsy, he was glad to have someone along that knew the difference between poison oak and wild garlic. She had already saved him once the night before when she had stopped him from lying down on a patch of stinging nettle. His elbow was still burning from where one of the tall leafy plants had touched him and he hated to think what it would have felt like to get a facefull of the stuff.

Tyreese smiled down at baby Judith and gave the little girl an affectionate pat on her head. "You start getting too tired, you tell me and I will take her," Tyreese said, lifting his hand from Judith's head and moving it to Wren's long locks, "and keep your eyes open for anything we can pick to eat later." Wren nodded and glanced back the way they had come, shuffling her feet like she was thinking about heading back that way.. "See something back there?," Tyreese asked.

"I think I saw a grapevine," Wren admitted. She had thought about stopping at the time, but was nervous to speak up and tell a grown man what she thought they ought to be doing.

"You lead the way," Tyreese said, stepping clear of her path and giving her a playful little bow.

Just as Wren was popping the first ripe grape into her mouth, Judith grunted. The grunt was followed by a horrible noise and an even worse smell. Wren wrinkled up her nose and stared down at the little girl that was strapped to her chest, hoping beyond her wildest hope that the front of her still mostly white t-shirt wasn't covered in squishy yellow baby poop. They had packed a bag for Judith, but nothing for themselves. So the clothes on her back were the only ones she owned. If her shit got covered in poop she would be forced to choose between wearing it or walking around in nothing but her bra, neither being very appealing options. Wren was relieved when Tyreese stepped forward and offered to take care of the baby and her mess. Lizzie helped out with the little girl for the first time, handing Tyreese the things he needed from Judith's baby bag while Wren and Mika stuffed their faces with grapes and spit the grape seeds out on the ground around them.

"Keep an eye out while I'm down here," Tyreese reminded the girls. He didn't have to say what they needed to keep an eye out for. Along with the constant threat of walkers they had seen some unsavory looking men after they ran from the prison. Unlike many of the other prison residents, her family had an escape plan in place. Wren knew if anything ever happened and she got separated from her parents and Harley, she was to wait for them at her mother's camper. The camper was parked about a mile out from the prison, hidden in the woods by a nearby road.

Wren was afraid she might not be able to find the camper. But Harley had marked the way by carving into the trees and marking them with pink nail polish. Wren not only found the camper, she also found out what happened to her two missing bottles of pink glitter polish. The problem was that someone else had found the camper before they did. A lot of someones.

Tyreese said the men must have been part of the governor's army but Wren wasn't so sure she believed that. They were dirty and looked like they had been in a fight. That much was true. Two of them were tearing Wren's mother's camper apart while the rest of them nursed their wounds. One man had his shoulder bandaged and his arm in a ripped up shirt that was serving as a sling. Another had a freshly broken nose. That was what struck her as odd. They looked like they had been in a fist fight, not in a battle where people were shooting at each other with guns. Either way there were too many of them to take on, especially when they only had two guns, one adult and baby with them.

So along with the walkers, the girls kept an eye out for a group of rough looking men. Wren wasn't sure what she was supposed to do if she spotted the men. Running might be their best option. She popped another grape into her mouth and tried not to think about her family and how they were heading for the camper just as she had been. The idea of her mother or her sister running into those men made Wren's stomach hurt.

The snap of a nearby twig startled Mika and both girls snapped their heads in the direction of the noise. A half rotted walker was shuffling towards them. Wren wasn't as afraid of the dead as she used to be. Carl showed her how to kill them. It wasn't hard. But she had never done it by herself before. Wren pulled her knife from her belt and made sure she had a good grip on it. She didn't rush the walker, she let it come to her. That was how Harley did it. Harley wasn't afraid of anything.

Wren could feel her heart beating in her ears. She pretended she was Harley as the smell of death grew and grew until she felt like she was drowning in it. Finally the monster was close enough. Wren lifted her leg and kicked it's knee as hard as she could, bending it backwards until it cracked and sending the monster flopping to the ground. Lifting her knife, Wren took careful aim. She knew she had to get the thing in it's brain on the first blow. Otherwise she was going to be stuck trying to get her knife back from a stinky monster that wanted to eat her.

Just before she brought her knife down, Wren heard Mika made a tiny little shriek. Wren turned in time to see Lizzie charging at her. The other girl shoved Wren with her hands, knocking her to the ground and almost on top of the walker she was trying to kill. Wren felt it's rotten hands clawing at her clothes, jaws snapping and cracking. Before it could bite her, Tyreese stomped down on it. The walker's head exploded like rotten pumpkin after halloween.

"What were you doing?," he barked at Lizze, offering Wren his hand and helping her up off the ground. Lizzie was staring at the smashed in head of the dead walker. She didn't answer Tyreese until he snapped his fingers in front of her face and asked her the question a second time.

"I was trying to help," Lizzie said. Wren glared at the other girl. Lizzie was obviously lying. How would shoving Wren into the arms of a walker possibly be of any help. And Wren had felt how hard Lizzie had shoved her. It wasn't like the other girl had stumbled into her. That shove was intentional.

Before anything else could be said about the incident, the sounds of someone calling for help could be heard echoing through the forest. Wren moved quickly, snatching Judith up off the ground were Tyreese had laid her when he was changing her diaper. Seeing that the man was ready to charge off after the sounds, Wren grabbed him by the shirt.

"It might be those men," she warned, "What if it's a trick?"

"It might be someone from our group," Tyreese told her, "I have to try and help." Wren nodded. If the person yelling was someone she cared about and they got hurt because she was too afraid to help, Wren would never forgive herself. "Stay right here," Tyreese ordered, "stay together. I'll be right back."

Just as Tyreese disappeared from sight, Judith started to fuss. Her noises quickly progressed from a few quiet baby grumbles to louder and louder crying. Wren bounced the little girl in her arms. She knew Judith was scared and probably crying because she wanted Beth or Carol or even Wren's own mother. Wren understood the feeling. She wanted her mommy too. It was hot and they were all sweaty, uncomfortable and hungry. Judith had every reason to cry. She had just chosen the exact wrong moment to start making noise.

"Shut her up," Lizzie barked.

"Make her a bottle," Wren hissed back at the other girl as she tried again to quiet the baby in her arms by lowering the girl into the crook of her arms and rocking her.

"There's no more water," Lizzie announced.

Mika was carrying the bag that had the water in it. If she had heard her sister's lie she might have been able to help. But she was distracted by a nearby walker that was heading in their direction, attracted by Judith's crying. Mika grabbed a rock she found near her feet and threw it, hoping the noise might distract the monster. But the rustle of the rock hitting a small pile of leaves could barely be heard over Judith's cries. Wren could feel the panic start to rise up inside her again. She rocked Judith back and forth, hoping by some small miracle that the motion would soothe the girl.

Lizzie pushed forward and grabbed Wren's arm, almost causing her to drop the little girl. Then she clamped her hand over Judith's mouth. Wren wasn't sure about the method Lizzie was using to quiet the girl but she had to admit, Lizzie's hand was muffling most of the noise. Wren turned her attention back to the walker. It was still heading in their direction. Mika had one of the guns up, pointing it at the walker. Wren tensed, knowing the worst thing they could do was to shoot a gun off. It would alert everyone dead or alive to their location. And she wasn't willing to take the gamble that her mother would be the one to find them before anyone else did. When Wren looked back down at the child in her arms she could see Judith's eyes were big and round with panic. Lizzie had moved her hand up over the little girl's nose and she was making it hard for the child to breathe.

"Get your hands offa her," Wren hissed, shoving Lizzie away as hard as she could. She hadn't liked being shoved onto a walker. She liked the way Lizzie was treating Judith even less. But what creeped Wren out the most was the intense look on the other girl's face as she was smothering a helpless baby.

Lizzie stumbled back but managed to right herself and keep from falling down. She came at Wren, trying to grab Judith from her arms. Wren had never been in a real fight. But she had been sparring with her much larger and much meaner sister since she was old enough to walk. She shifted Judith to her hip and swung the baby away from Lizzie, putting her body between them. When Lizzie came at her again after being shoved back a second time Wren grabbed for the other girl's hair and yanked it as hard as she could.

"That's enough!"

The voice was familiar and for a moment Wren was sure it belonged to her mother. She released her death grip on Lizzie's hair and backed up a step, spinning towards the woman that had spoken. It wasn't her mother. But it was someone that was almost just as wonderful. Carol was standing a few feet away, her knife bloody from killing the walker that was coming at them.


	40. Chapter 40

Red River Blue

Chapter 40

His dad told him not to look back. But Carl didn't listen. When Rick stopped to lean against a tree and catch his breath, Carl turned around. Rubbing the tears out of his eyes so that he could see clearly, he stared back at what he used to consider the safest place in the new world. The building itself was a prison, but it had been his home. It had been a home to all of them.

Dark plumes of black smoke rose up from the building. Walkers trampled over the small garden that Carl and his dad had worked so hard to plant. A stray chicken had gotten loose from the small chicken coop Hershel kept them in and was running through the freshly mowed grass with half it's feathers on fire. There was no hope of fixing the place or rebuilding. Part of the main building had caved in and the fences were torn down in so many places that it would have been impossible to ever put them back up.

Carl ground the tears from his eyes with the backs of his hands. He tried to tell himself that Wren had gotten out. But looking at the caved in part of the prison, the part where she had been hiding, he was having a hard time believing that. The more he looked back at the prison, the more convinced Carl was that the girl was trapped somewhere inside, waiting for him to come for her. He had told Wren to hide inside and stay there. If she was trapped inside the prison now, he felt like it was his fault.

"Carl," his dad wheezed, grasping the back of his shirt to keep the boy from taking another step back the way they had come. Carl jerked away, pulling his shirt from his father's grasp.

"I promised Wren I would come back for her," Carl hissed. He wasn't sure if he meant to convince his father or himself. He tried not to look to hard at his father, since really seeing how bad the man looked was testing Carl's resolve. If he left and went back to look for Wren, his father might die. But if he stayed with his father, she might be lost to him forever.

"If she's still in there," Rick said, pausing because he knew what he was about to say was terrible and nothing a boy his son's age should ever have to hear about someone he loved, "If she's still in there, she's dead." Carl turned his back, his shoulders sagging as he buried his face in his hands. His hair was matted to his head in the shape of his hat but the item itself was missing. Rick wondered if the boy had lost it during the fight or if maybe Merle's younger daughter had it. He liked to think she did. And that she was alright somewhere.

A strangled choking noise came out of the boy and at that moment Rick realized how much the young girl in question had meant to his son. Stepping forward, Rick wiped his dirty mangled hand off on the front of his bloody shirt and reached for his son, setting his hand on the boy's shoulder in a small gesture of comfort.

"You don't know that," Carl hissed, jerking away from his father's touch, "You don't know shit!" Carl's grief had turned quickly from sadness to a rage of scorching anger. And the only person around to bear the brunt of it was his father. The boy held up his hand, flicking his middle finger up in the air and aiming the offensive gesture towards the badly injured man in front of him. Carl had seen Wren's family use the gesture plenty of times. In the Dixon family, flipping the bird was a common form of self expression. Wren and her sister waved their fingers at each other. Daryl gave the finger to Merle and Merle gave it to him and River gave it to both the brothers and laughed at them if she thought they were being stupid or stubborn. Harley even sometimes flashed it at her parent's backs when they weren't looking. But Carl had never used the gesture before. He hated to admit it, but he enjoyed the look of shock and hurt on his father's face more than he should have.

Without another word, Carl turned on his heel and started stomping off in the direction they had been going before he had stopped and looked back at the prison. He set a fast pace, one he knew his father would have trouble keeping up with.

TWD

When the dead stared pouring out of the woods, Michonne did something she wasn't proud of. Michonne hid under a truck. She didn't have a gun, only her sword. And there had simply been too many of them. The governor's blood got on her when she stabbed him and the dead could smell it. She she rolled herself in the dirt as best she could and slid under one of the trucks the man she killed had drove there in.

She didn't know how long she stayed there. After a while the moans and pairs of shuffling feet started to blend together. The stress of the day and the hard hit she took in the head caught up with her. Michonne slept, her hand clutched tightly around her sword as she dreamed about stabbing the governor through the chest over and over again. In some of her dreams he managed to murder Rick before she could get to him. In some Rick was gone and Phillip Blake had her small son on the ground choking the boy to death. Those were the worst. Dreams of her son always haunted her long after she woke and started trying to go through the motions of her day.

Michonne's body was sore and cramped. Her head was pounding in both temples. She was disoriented and wasn't sure how late in the day it was, or if it was the next day or if she had only been asleep for a few minutes. Sliding silently across the dirt on her stomach, she peeked out from under the truck to make sure she wasn't going to be swarmed by walkers the moment she stood up.

A few of the dead were still wandering around, but not enough of them to be a problem for her. Michonne eased out from under the truck and forced herself up onto her feet. Water was her number one priority. She found a large canteen inside the truck she had been hiding under. Forcing herself to take it slow, she only took a few sips before she twisted the cap back on and slung the strap of the bottle over her shoulder. Water was first. Her family was second. She had to find them.

Only a few steps into her search, Michonne almost stumbled over what had to be one of the most horrible things she had seen since the very beginning of the turn. Hershel's decapitated head rolled away after she kicked into it with the tip of her boot. Not only was it his head, but it was his reanimated head. Snapping and biting, eyes that had been so full of love and kindness for every single person he knew now glassy and lifeless.

Michonne bit her lip to hold back the bile that was threatening to rise up and spill out of her. The salty tang of her own blood filled her mouth. She took one deep breath and then she did what she had trained herself to do since she lost her son. She shut down every emotion inside her body, pushing them down deep inside her and burying them there. She didn't need Hershel. She didn't need Carl or Rick or Harley or Daryl. She didn't need Andrea. Or Hershel. She didn't need anyone. With one quick stab of her sword, she gave poor Hershel's body some mercy. There was no time to bury him properly, so Michonne just walked away and forced herself to think about something else.

Camoflauge. That was her new second priority. Water then camoflague then food. She didn't need her family and she was probably better off without them slowing her down anyway. Michonne slashed the jaws and arms off two walkers and tied a length of rope around their necks. They weren't people she knew this time but she hoped they were men that had come here with the governor. Men that didn't deserve her pity or mercy. She pulled them along behind her and started off through the woods. Putting one foot in front of the other, she wasn't even sure where she was going. Walking aimlessly seemed moderately better than just lying down on the ground and waiting to die.

Michonne walked and before she knew it a large herd a walkers was shuffling along with her. Following the two she was leading as walkers had a strange tendency to do. Her body tensed a little when she saw an even larger herd of them up ahead. She tensed but she kept going. The walkers took no notice of her and for a moment, Michonne felt a strange sensation. She felt like she was one of them. Just an empty shell of a person with no life inside it. It hit her then. She wasn't going to let the governor do this to her.

Michonne's despair quickly gave way to anger at the man that had destroyed her home and killed her friends. She slashed at the walkers around her like each one of them was Phillip Blake. Slashing and stabbing at them. She cut them limb from limb and sent there heads rolling into the grass like Hershel's head had rolled when she bumped it with her boot. When she was done there were too many bodies piled up around her to even count.

"Hey!"

The voice came from the tree above and it startled her. Michonne gripped her sword in both hands and jumped back, looking up to see who had called out so suddenly. A dirt streaked face peered down at her from the leafy branches, circled in a halo of wild blond curls.

"Hey Michonne!," Harley called down to the woman, "If yer done throwing yer fit, why don't you help me down outta this tree!"

It felt like a tickle that started down in her belly and rumbled up out from between her lips. Michonne leaned against the tree Harley was hiding in and just let the laughter roll over her. Harley had her father's way of knowing just exactly the worst thing to say at any possible moment. It was a trait of the girl's that Michonne had come to love and embrace over time.

Once she had control of herself, Michonne helped Harley down from the tree. She could tell the girl was hurt worse than she was trying to let on. Her clothes had been ripped open and torn up, but Michonne didn't ask her about it. She just pulled the taller girl into her arms and held her as tightly as she could without hurting her. Harley hugged her friend back, feeling like she had never been so happy to see anyone in her life as she was to see Michonne show up and take out the entire pack of biters that had chased her up that tree and kept her hostage there all night.

"The prison's gone?," Harley asked, hoping that it wasn't true even though she had heard the shooting and seen the smoke. Michonne nodded. A flicker of emotion washed over Harley's face before she shut it down and reached for the flask of water Michonne had hanging over her shoulder. She did the same as Michonne had done without having to be told. Despite her thirst, Harley only took a few small sips, rationing the water for later. As she screwed the cap back on the canteen, her eyebrows knitted together.

"Okay," Harley said, her mind racing, "Let's check my mom's camper first. That's the meeting spot if the prison ever fell. If we don't find anyone there, we can circle around and start looking for tracks."

"You lead the way," Michonne said, feeling more grateful than she thought she would that Harley was taking charge. But before they set off to the east, Michonne reached out and grasped the girl by the hand. "Wait. Are you alright?," she asked, gesturing with the other hand at Harley's ripped shirt and the top of her jeans where the button was popped off. Harley's slim body was covered in bruises that Michonne had a feeling the girl didn't get from fighting walkers. Her hair was a sloppy dirty mess and dried leaves and sticks were tangled up in her curls.

"Some guys tried to jump me," Harley admitted. Her face twisted up as she forced herself to smile a smile that didn't go all the way up to her eyes. "I killed one of them and ran the rest off," the girl assured Michonne, before she paused and chewed at her bottom lip, "but maybe we better keep a lookout just in case."

"Or maybe they better keep a lookout for us," Michonne corrected. That made Harley smile. A real smile. She pulled the front of her shirt closed as best she could and knotted it under her bra. Then she leaned in and hugged Michonne one more time. Harley hugs were a rare occurance. They were always rough and hurried, like she was uncomfortable giving them out and only did it because she couldn't stop herself.

Despite the attack she had suffered, running every way possible from walkers, and being stuck in a tree all night, Harley knew exactly where she was going. Michonne let her take the lead as they picked their way through the woods, making a broad circle around the outside of the prison. They paused only once, as Harley picked through a bush to look for something she was sure she smelled. She held the filthy prize up pinched between two fingers, waving it around for Michonne's inspection. Whoever had left the dirty diaper was long gone, but finding it meant that not only was Judith alive and safe but that someone was keeping her that way.

The two women spoke quietly as they walked. Harley didn't give much detail about her attack, but she told Michonne enough that she knew who they were watching out for. Michonne told Harley about being kidnapped by the governor and what happened at the prison. She left out the part about Hershel being killed.

"Sonofabitch," Harley cursed.

The small camper that had been their home for almost an entire year was now nothing but a smoldering rubble. It wasn't bad enough that someone ransacked the place, but to add insult to injury they had lit the whole camper on fire once they got done. Harley stepped carefully closer, kicking some of the rubble around in the slim hope that she might find a shirt to replace the ripped up one she was wearing. Harley cursed under her breath, one hand holding onto her damaged ribs as she toed through the piles of melted and burnt up belongings. Near the edge of the wreckage she found a small pile of burnt up first aid supplies and a bloody shirt. Harley shook her head, feeling herself fill up with anger. She recognized that shirt. It belonged to the man she had stabbed in the shoulder. Harley knew she should have followed those assholes and finished them off. She had let them go and they had come here and burnt up her mother's camper.

"Check it out," Michonne suggested, tapping Harley on the shoulder and pointing towards a nearby tree. Harley stepped over the pile of smoldering garbage in front of her and headed over to take a closer look. There was a note painted on the trunk of the tree. Harley moved closer as she reached out to touch it. Touching the note felt almost a bit like touching her mother. Because the words, written the blood of a dead walker that was lying nearby was still in her mother's girlish handwriting. It simply read:

River

Maggie

Sasha

Bob

were here

went to look for the bus

I love you

Harley smiled and ran her fingers over the words one more time before she backed away. Her mother was alive. It scared Harley a little that she didn't have Wren with her. But Harley hoped that maybe Wren was with her father. She even dared to hope that they had both gotten onto the bus and maybe her mother had already found them.

"Do you know which way the bus went?," Harley asked Michonne. The woman shook her head. She hadn't seen which way anyone had gone. There were several roads leading away from the prison and all of them had been cleared. It was hard to guess which way the bus might have gone and how far it got before it stopped. Michonne suggested that they circle around the prison and look for a working vehicle and Harley agreed. Michonne also thought they ought to look for some medical supplies to try and patch Harley up but she didn't say anything about that since she knew the girl would just object.

They avoided the areas that were the heaviest with walkers, but managed to find a few cars and a truck that still had gas in them. Michonne also found some tape, which she carefully applied to Harley's ribs against the girl's strong protests that she was fine and didn't need any help.

"You don't know how to hot wire a car do you?," Michonne asked hopefully. Harley laughed and shook her head. She barely even knew how to drive. Michonne sighed and slammed the car door shut. She had searched all three vehicles completely and there was no sign of the keys to any of them.

"I found something!," Harley called over. She sounded so excited that for a moment Michonne was sure she found a random set of car keys just lying on the ground. When she hurried over Harley was staring at nothing but what looked like some scratches in the dirt. "I recognize these boots," Harley announced. Her uncle had been teaching her a little, but she was far from being as good at tracking as him. Regardless of that, she was still sure of what she saw.

"Who's are they?," Michonne asked. Harley's excitement was catching. While the two women were walking around the perimeter of the prison they had tried following a few sets of prints. But each one had led to a road or to the railroad tracks. They couldn't follow them after that. Harley wasn't that good a tracker. But this set led off into the woods. In the soft dirt and mud. Michonne was fairly sure even she could follow them.

"These here boots belong to none other than my little sister's lover boy," Harley announced. No one else wore men's boots that small. Only Carl. His feet were the same size as hers. That's how she knew the prints were his. "Come on," she said, grabbing Michonne by the hand and pulling the woman along behind her, "Let's go find him."


	41. Chapter 41

Red River Blue

Chapter 41

The hot Georgia sun was beating down on him from high above. His head was pounding and as Glenn turned to try and escape the light he felt his hand gliding out over the open air, grasping at nothing. That and the strong smell of death were enough to cause a spike in his adrenaline. He blinked his eyes open, yanking his hand back as soon as he realized that it was dangling dangerously close to a small herd of walkers.

"Maggie!," Glenn hollered, calling out for the woman. He pushed himself up into a sitting position. After observing his surroundings more carefully Glenn did not call out for Maggie again. There was no way she was anywhere around him and all his yelling was doing was attracting more of the dead to his position. He scrubbed at his face with his hands, trying to think back to the last thing he could remember.

They were attacked. By the governor. He had been too sick to fight and he could still feel the stinging shame. But Maggie had not been too sick. Glenn's felt like his heart bottomed out into his stomach as he was forced to consider that his wife had been killed in the attack. Looking down at the walkers below him, he searched the crown for familiar faces. There were none. And most of the walkers looked well rotted. They had died a lot more than a day or two before.

Maggie wasn't dead. Glenn refused to even let himself consider the possiblity any longer. Maggie was alive and he was going to find her. Glenn smacked his parched lips together. The first thing he was going to need was water. Water and food and a weapon. All of these things could be found inside the prison. But supplies weren't going to be enough. He needed a plan.

Out of anyone in the prison group he wished he had been stuck with Daryl instead of being alone. The man was the best tracker he had ever seen. He would be able to find Maggie. Glenn wasn't a skilled outdoorsman. But he wasn't without his own set of skills. He was smart. If he couldn't track Maggie he decided he would simply start searching around the perimeter of the prison, making his search in a circle that would get wider and further out until he found some sign of the woman. He would find her because he had to find her.

Inside the prison, the first thing Glenn grabbed was a huge gallon sized jug of bottled water. He twisted the cap off, dropping it to the floor in his hurry to lift the bottle to his mouth. Tilting it back he chugged until at least half the contents were gone. Setting it down he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. A stray walker wandered out from inside one of the cells on the block. Glenn stabbed it through the head with a butcher knife letting it fall to the ground with the knife still protruding from it's skull.

There were a lot of walkers outside the prison. Too many for one man to take on alone. Glenn knew if he wanted to give himself a fighting chance he was going to need to put on some of the riot gear they had salvaged from the prison. River and Carol had cleaned a bunch of it up, but it was over in the other cell block. Glenn packed a bag, taking only what he needed and the few personal items he couldn't bear to leave behind. He pulled the picture of Maggie down from the wall in their cell and stuffed it into his pocket. Not only did he want her picture, but he also thought it might come in handy if he met any strangers. That way he could ask them if they had seen her.

Herhsel's watch, he couldn't leave that behind. Glenn wondered where the old man was and if he had made it out of the prison alive. Maybe he had. Glenn hoped that he and Maggie were together. He knew it wasn't likely but it was a comforting thought. Glenn picked up a bottle of brandy, turning it around in his hands as the wheels in his mind turned. He now had an idea of how he was going to get into the other cell block.

Glenn flicked the wheel on the small bic lighter in his hand. He forced himself to hold it under the rag until he was sure the cloth was on fire. Then he hurled it as far as he could out into the prison yard. It exploded with a loud popping crash, the flammable liquid inside bursting into flames. Like he had hoped the walkers all turned and headed for the bright noisy light. This left only a handful of them for Glenn to take out on his way to the other cellblock.

While the cellblock he had been living in had suffered only minmal damage, the same could not be said for the one he was entering. The place had been blasted halfway to rubble. A thin layer of cement dust covered every possible surface. Looking at it sent a shiver wiggling up Glenn's spine. The sight of it reminded him of a documentary he had watched in high school about World War II and the concentration camps. The cement dust reminded him of the ash made entirely of cremated human remains that had rained down and covered and entire town.

Climbing over a large chunk of cement, Glenn dodged around a walker that was pinned underneath. That one was someone he knew. An older woman from Woodbury. Glenn felt bad that he couldn't remember her name.

A loud clank followed by a thump and a grunting curse stopped Glenn in his tracks. Walkers didn't talk. And they sure didn't curse. Glenn proceeded with extreme caution knowing that there was a chance that whoever he heard was one of the governor's soldiers and not a friend. Flattening himself against what was left of the wall, Glenn crept closer. When he got close enough he leaned forward and took a quick look to see who he was dealing with. Glenn immediately regretted his actions. He thought the worst person he was going to run into was one of the governor's soldiers and he had been dead wrong. Of all the people left alive in the whole world, it was just his luck that he would be stuck alone with none other than Merle Dixon.

Taking a better look at what was going on, Glenn realized that Merle was in quite the predicament. A large chunk of cement had fallen down from above. It was blocking the door of his cell from opening. And at the awkward angle Merle was at, there was no way he was going to be able to pry it loose. He was stuck inside that cell. If no one helped him he was going to starve and die inside that cell. And for the briefest of moments, Glenn considered turning back the way he had come and just letting it happen. The man would be getting exactly what he deserved. But that wasn't what Glenn did.

"Need a hand?," Glenn asked the man, stepping out where he could be seen and offering up a large witty grin. He was going to help Merle but that didn't mean he had to be nice to him. At his new vantage point Glenn could see that Merle had taken apart the bunk bed inside his cell and was trying to use the poles to move the giant slab of concrete. Merle was resourceful, Glenn had to give him that.

The two men started at each other for a few seconds before Merle spoke up. "I ain't gonna beg fer yer help if that's whatcha want," he announced. Glenn rolled his eyes.

"If it was me in that cage," Glenn asked, "would you help me?" Merle scowled at him. Then he shrugged.

"Probly not," he admitted. Glenn didn't have anything he needed. And Merle made it a point not to stick his neck out for people that had never done anything for him. "But yer gonna help me," Merle announced, sounding a lot more confident than Glenn thought a man in his position had a right to be.

"And why's that," Glenn asked, narrowing his eyes at the man. Merle smiled as he leaned forward against the bars of the cell, his stump hand looking naked and raw without the arm piece he usually wore covering it.

"Cause your little dime piece wife is long gone. She got herself a two day headstart and without my help you ain't never gonna see her fuckin' ass again," Merle said.

TWD

After several failed attempts to dislodge the large piece of cement that was blocking the door to Merle's cell, Glenn finally hooked a chain around it and used the tint bit of gas that was left in one of the trucks to drag it. Half the outside wall being missing ended up working in their favor, since that's how Glenn was able to get the truck close enough.

The first thing Merle had done was grab for some water and start chugging. Watching him, Glenn felt an odd sort of comradery with the man, which actually annoyed him. Just because they both needed water to live didn't mean they had anything else in common. Merle packed himself a bag, like Glenn had already done. He took a few drawings from the wall that his daughter had made for him, folding them up and placing them inside a plastic ziplock bag that contained the few letters that River had written him since they reunited before shoving the whole mess down into the very bottom of his bag. He fastened on the metal sleeve he wore over his arm. Glenn was already clothed in some of the riot gear they had taken off some of the walkers at the prison. Since wearing protective gear didn't seem like the worst idea ever, Merle strapped a second set over his own clothes.

Glenn wanted to go out through the main gate. But Merle convinced him that they ought to avoid the heavily walker saturated area and head down and out through the tombs. By the time they hit the woods on the opposite side of the prison, Merle could already tell that Glenn was getting winded. He tried not to let it annoy him too much. The man had almost died from the flu and had quite possibly saved his from a horrible death by freeing him from that cell. But Merle was eager to get to River's trailer, which was the spot they had all decided on as a meeting place in case the prison fell and they were somehow separated. He didn't need Glenn slowing him down.

"Mother fucker!," Merle cursed, kicking at the charred remains of what used to be River's trailer. A walker came stumbling out of the woods and Merle pinned it against a tree with his metal sleeve across it's throat, stabbing it over and over again in the face. When he had worked out his anger at not finding his family safe and waiting for him, he let the walker drop. It slid to the ground with a thump. Merle blinked a few times. He was sure of what he saw written on the tree but at the same time he thought he might be seeing things. River's name was painted on the tree in walker blood. It was partly smeared from the walker he had just killed but it was there. Underneath were the names of some other people in the group and a short note that said they had gone to look for the bus.

Glenn had been sitting near the wreckage slowly sipping a bottle of water and wiping the sweat from his brow. But when Merle called him over he heard something strange in the man's tone. It sounded like his voice was thick with emotion. Glenn didn't even know the man had feelings. Looking at the note Glenn forgot all about Merle's uncharacteristic show of caring as he felt his own eyes filling with tears. Maggie was alive. And she was with River. Which meant there was no way Merle would go back on his word about helping Glenn find his wife.


	42. Chapter 42

Red River Blue

Chapter 42

Putting one foot in front of the other, Wren walked with her arms outstretched to try and help her balance. Mika was doing the same on the other side of the train tracks. The contest had been raging for most of the afternoon, both girls trying to see who could balance on the thin metal section of the tracks longer than the other. Every so often Carol would signal back to them that they needed to get down and catch up with the group. The conest would then be put on a brief hold while the two girls ran ahead to join the rest of the group before it started again.

Wren had been relieved when Lizzie chose to tag along behind Carol and Tyreese for most of the morning. She still wasn't happy about the way the other girl had pushed her into that walker and though she was a sweet and gentle girl for the most part, Wren was not without some of the Dixon anger that tended to run hot on her father's side of the family. Lizzie had finally grown bored of walking along with the adutls and was currently trudging along behind them. Two different times already she had bumped into her younger sister and tried to make it look like an accident. The last time Lizzie had slammed into the smaller girl so hard she sent Mika flying down onto the splintery wooden part of the tracks.

Wren watched Lizzie out of the corner of her eye and when it looked like she might go for Mika again, Wren stuck her foot out and tripped her. Lizzie fell face first onto the tracks and came up with a nasty looking chunk of wood sticking out of her palm.

"Whoops!," Wren called out in a little sing song voice, "Guess you should have been watchin' where you walked so you didn't bump into anyone." Lizzie got to her feet and yanked the small sliver of wood from her hand, tossing it to the ground in disgust. She cast a hateful glance at Wren, who had already stepped down from the metal beam and onto solid ground.

Wren never had to fight much at school because everyone was afraid of her older sister. But that didn't mean that she didn't know how. Harley had made damn sure she knew how to defend herself. Thinking of Harley made her homesick. Wren had never given much appreciation to the type of sister she had. But watching Lizzie and Mika together she was suddenly grateful for Harley in a way she never had been before. Not that Harley never gave her shit. They were still sisters. But here, alone in the woods surrounded by strangers and undead cannibals, Harley would have been worried about keeping them safe not shoving Wren off a balance beam for no reason.

Lizzie took a step towards Wren. Lizzie was a little taller. But Wren was older and puberty had added a little more weight to her through the hips and thighs. She let Lizzie take one more step in her direction before both her arms shot out and slammed hard against the other girl's chest. Lizzie staggered backwards and almost fell on her ass. Wren stood with her feet apart and her legs slightly bent. She remembered seeing Harley fight another girl once after a basketball game. And so she repeated what Harley had told the much larger and heavier girl before she beat the crap out of her and two of her friends that tried to jump in.

"Come at me bitch," Wren hissed. At that invitation Lizzie decided that she had enough. The girl turned and ran to catch up with Carol. Mika giggled as she watched her sister hurry away. She reached across the small space and grabbed for Wren's hand, squeezing it with her own.

"Thanks," Mika whispered. She paused a moment before she added, "My sister is really messed up." Wren could tell from Mika's tone that she wasn't saying it to be mean. She sounded sad and even a little apologetic when she spoke about her sister's mental health. Wren nodded and kept hold of Mika's hand and they walked together for while, taking turns at a silly rhyming game that Mika liked instead of balancing on the tracks.

TWD

"I wish my dad was here to see this," Wren chirped, "I helped cut them up before but this is the first one I shot myself." Carol smiled as she yanked back harder on the hide of the deer while Tyreese made a sloppy job of trying to cut the skin loose from the meat of the animal with the dull side of his knife. Carol wasn't sure what was funnier, how inept Tyreese still was at butchering game meat or the look Wren had on her face while she was watching him do it. Like it was hurting her worse than the dead deer.

"You can tell him all about it when you see him again," Tyreese suggested. Wren had little Judith balanced on her hip and she was hovering close to him. Every time he made a cut she wrinkled her pretty little face up in disgust. Tyreese grabbed a rag and cleaned his hands up before he held his arms out for the baby. He still wasn't sure why he thought it would be a good idea for him to butcher the deer up but at the time letting the girls do it while he stood by and held the baby just hadn't seemed like the right thing to do. "How about I hold her and you help Carol?," he asked, trying not to laugh at how eager the girl was to shove Judith at him and grab up the knife he had been using.

Carol and Wren chatted back and forth a little while Tyreese sat down nearby and let Judith crawl around in the grass. Aside from butchering a deer Carol felt relieved by the routine domesticity of the day. The cabin had enough gas left in the large tank outside to justify the use of the oven and Carol had spent the morning baking the girls candied pecans. Tyreese had proved his usefulness by getting water to flow from the pump well on the side of the cabin.

Carol had never spent much time with Tyreese before and she was plesantly surprised to see what a kind and gentle man he was. Sadly this only served to make her feel more guilty about what she had done to his girlfriend Karen. At the time Carol had believed that she was keeping everyone in the prison safe. But seeing how much Tyreese was still grieving for the woman he lost was wearing heavily on her conscience. When she heard him crying quietly on the porch outside the cabin the night before she had felt a strong urge to go to him and confess everything. Her fear over what his reaction might be had been the only thing that kept her from telling him.

"Maybe we should stay here a while," Tyreese suggested, smiling at Judith as she grabbed for his face. "We have water, food..." Carol nodded her agreement without adding on her own reason for wanting to stay put. To speak her hopes out loud would be to admit her feelings and she wasn't even sure she was ready to admit them to herself. But deep down she knew or at least hoped that there was some small chance that Daryl was looking for her. He was an experienced tracker. And the best way to find a tracker was to stay put and let them find you. At the very least Carol was one hundred percent sure that Merle was looking for his wife and daughters. Which meant that hopefully sooner rather than later Carol's little group might be found by one or even both of the two men.

As Wren leaned inside the carcass to start cutting the loins out, Carol heard a scream from the other side of the clearing. She let go of the rib cage of the deer, splattering Wren's chest and face with blood and juices. Carol had sent Lizzie and Mika out to pick peaches, warning them to not to stray too far from the cabin. At the time letting the girls out of her sight felt wrong. But she had told herself that she wasn't going to let losing Sophia cloud her judgement and turn her into a hovering mother hen. Lizzie and Mika had to learn to live in this world. She couldn't shelter them constantly. Picking peaches was something that they were perfectly capable of.

Grabbing for the knife on her belt, Carol ran in the direction the screams had come from. She heard Wren's feet pounding behind her. As Carol ran a thousand horrible thoughts flew threw her mind. The scariest one being that those men that Tyreese had seen near Wren's mom's camper had found them. Carol could fight walkers but she wasn't going to be able to fight off an entire group of grown men. She was also afraid that she might be too late to help the girls. By the time she got there Lizzie and Mika might already be dead.

Unlike what happened with her own daughter, none of Carol's worst fears came true under the grove of peaches. She got there in time. Mika had caught her pants on a section of barbed wire fence. There were some walkers coming at her but Wren was able to draw them away, the fresh deer's blood on her shirt being a blessing in disguise. The smell drew them away from Mika and gave Carol time to pry the girl's sock and pantleg off the tangle of wire she had caught it on.

"We don't have to kill them," Lizzie cried out, "Mika's fine we can just let them go."

She was talking about the walkers. Carol already had several conversations with the girl about them. They were dangerous. They weren't people anymore. Walkers would kill you and eat you if they had the chance. They weren't stray dogs that Lizzie would be able to train and make friends with. Carol was very disappointed to see that none of her words had made an impression on the girl. Ignoring Lizzie's protests, Carol stepped over the fence and took out two of the walkers on the other side. Wren got the last one but letting it trip over the fence and stabbing it in the head once it was already on the ground. That made Carol smile a little. Wren was short like her mother and had adopted the woman's technique of getting the walkers on the ground first and then taking them out. River was the first real female friend Carol had ever had in her adult life and the small reminder of the woman Carol realized she missed her more than she ever expected.

"You didn't have to do that!," Lizzie cried out. Tears were welling up in her eyes and she turned and ran off towards the cabin with her ponytail flying and swinging out behind her. Wren rolled her eyes as she leaned down to help Mika up off the ground.

"She didn't push you into that fence did she?," Wren asked the girl. Mika glanced towards Carol nervously.

"Did she push you?," Carol asked. She knew Lizzie was having some problems coping with her father's death but she had no idea that the girl had been taking it out on her younger sister or she never would have sent them off alone together. Mika looked at Wren. The older girl nodded her head, indicating that Mika ought to tell Carol the truth about what was going on.

"She did," Mika said nodding her head affirmatively. The girl paused, afraid to say anything else because Lizzie had threatened her of what would happen if she did. Wren stepped forward and wrapped her arm around the smaller girl's shoulder.

"Go ahead and tell," she encouraged, "I won't let her get you." Carol was a little shocked at the way Wren was speaking about Lizzie. Carol knew the girl had problems but Wren was talking about her like she was the boogeyman.

"We didn't pick peaches," Mika admitted, "Lizzie made me go with her to feed that walker we saw stuck in the tracks. She caught a little field mouse..." Mika scrunched up her face in disgust leaving Carol to imagine what had become of the poor animal. She hoped that was the last of it but Mika continued on. "Lizzie was the one feeding rats to the walkers at the prison. She said if I told she would feed me to them instead."

TWD

Since Carol's words seemed to be falling on deaf ears when it came to Lizzie's problems with the walkers, she asked Tyreese if he might be willing to talk to her. The girl had been close with her father and Carol hoped she might be more responsive to a man than she was to Carol. While they spoke on the porch Carol watched Mika and Wren playing with Judith inside the cabin. Wren had the little girl in her lap and she was helping her to roll a ball back and forth with Mika. Everytime the colorful ball came at her Judith was giggling and squealing with delight.

Tyreese swung the door open. He looked half panicked and half excited. He stumbed over his words, telling Carol that he was sure he had heard voices coming from the direction of the train tracks. Carol hurried to grab her weapons, feeling a swell of hope surge up inside her.

"You girls stay here," she told them, directing her words to Wren since that's who she had deemed the most responsible of the bunch. Wren nodded as she leaped to her feet and swung Judith high into the air. She kissed the little girl and asked her which of their daddies she thought it was that Carol and Tyreese were about to find nearby. Lizzie was ushered back inside the cabin as Tyreese and Carol hurried away. Wren headed to the window and watched them until they disappeared into the woods.

"Maybe we should go outside," Lizzie suggested. While Wren wasn't to keen on listening to any ideas Lizzie came up with, heading outside to listen for her dad sounded too good to pass up. Mika grabbed one of the old quilts they found inside the cabin and the girls headed out te door. They lay the blanket down over the grass for Judith. Mika and Lizzie sat with her while Wren paced around with her hand on the gun at her hip. She hoped the voices Tyreese heard belonged to people they knew but Wren was smart enough to know that there was a chance the voices belonged to strangers. Maybe they were friendly, like the people that left the signs on the side of the railroad tracks but maybe they weren't.

"You're wrong about the walkers," Lizzie announced. Wren didn't dignify the girl's idiotic statement with a response other than to put her finger to her mouth signalling the other girl to shut the hell up. Wren was trying to listen for voices not to a bunch of lunatic walker garbage.

"You're all wrong and I'm going to prove it to you," Lizzie told her. Wren rolled her eyes. She knew Carol had said that Lizzie was sick and that they all needed to be nice to her but Wren was about at the limit of how much she was going to take from the girl.

"Go hug one then and see what happens," Wren suggested. She had already been mad about how Lizzie was treating Mika. And that was before she found out Lizzie was the one feeding the walkers at the prison. Wren's uncle and mom had both almost been bit fighting those walkers. Because they were bunching up on the fenceline. Because of Lizzie.

"I don't need to do that to show you," Lizzie said. Wren turned her back, determined to ignore the girl and not make anymore nasty remarks. But then she heard Mika scream. Wren turned to see that Lizzie had a knife in her hand. It looked like Tyreese's and Wren guessed Lizzie had lifted it off the man while he was talking to her on the porch.

Mika managed to dodge the first slash but the second one caught her across the side of her stomach. A large spot of bright red blood welled up on her side, soaking her shirt. Wren stood still for a moment not quite believing what she was seeing. She knew Lizzie was crazy but she still had not been expecting her to start trying to kill her sister out of nowhere. Mika was screaming and holding the bloody wound on her side. Lizzie held the knife up as she prepared to sink in into the other girl and finish her off. Wren felt the wind in her hair before she realized she was moving. Her body collided heavily with the other girl's sending them both crashing to the ground.

Wren had her fists balled up and she was pounding them into every part of Lizzie's body that she had access to. It took her a few minutes to even realize that the other girl wasn't fighting her back. Wren pulled back and looked down at herself. She was covered in blood and so was Lizzie. The thick dark liquid was pooling up under the girl, the large dark puddle getting wider and wider as it spread out across the grass.

Mika crawled over, one hand on her side. She grabbed for Wren with the other hand and pulled her away gently. It wasn't until Wren was back on the blanket that she saw the knife Lizzie had been holding. The hilt was sticking out of the middle of the other girl's chest. When Wren tackled her Lizzie had been stabbed with her own knife. She was dead.


	43. Chapter 43

Red River Blue

Chapter 43

Whoever the previous owners of this house had been, they weren't very fashion forward. And the undergarments the woman who lived there had left behind made Harley laugh. The cups of the bras were so big she could fit her entire head in one of them. Michonne laughed along with her as she tossed Harley a snug fitting boys tank top to wear under her tshirt while her own undergarments soaked in a bucket of lukewarm water downstairs. Harley winced as she lifted her arms above her head to pull it on.

"That's why you're staying here," Michonne reminded her. The woman stepped closer and lowered her tone, adding, "Rick was unconcious yesterday. I don't want to leave him alone." Harley had a feeling Michonne was placating her. The woman had probably said the exact same thing to Rick while Harley was out of earshot. But the truth was Harley actually felt too much like dogshit to argue. Spending the night up a tree after having the crap kicked out of her had taken a toll on her body. The worst were her ribs. Every time she took a deep breath they burned. They didn't have the proper medical equipment to see if her ribs were cracked or just badly bruised so all Michonne could do was tape her up and give her body time to heal.

They didn't have much in the way of pain medication but Carl had found a half a bottle of ibuprofen in one of the houses on the block. Harley took two and settled in on the upstairs bed next to Rick with what actually looked like it might be a halfway decent book. It was her favorite type of story, a murder mystery. After the first chapter Harley could already feel her eyelids starting to droop. She figured the chances of Rick trying anything with her once she fell asleep were slim to none. The only time he had even come near her was to hand her another pillow so she could lean back without stressing her ribs. But just in case, Harley refused to allow herself to fully relax until she heard soft snores drifting over from his side of the bed.

Harley's paperback book sunk slowly to her chest as her head tipped back into her pillows. She was both physically and metally exhausted. Sleep came on hard and she fell into the type of hard deep sleep that leaves a person wondering what year it is when they wake up.

"Harley," Rick hissed at the girl. He was trying to be gentle as he could as he shook her awake but there were strange men inside the house and he didn't have time to waste. He could hear their voices downstairs and from the sounds of them there were at least half a dozen of them. And the only gun he had with him was out of bullets. Harley woke with a start, one fist flying at his face as her other hand reached for the knife at her waist. Thankfully Rick had been expecting her to swing at him. He ducked away from her clenched fist and slapped his hand down over her mouth. "There's people downstairs."

Harley stopped fighting him, her ice blue eyes getting wider as she strained to listen. The first thing she heard was footsteps on the stairs. Rick yanked his hand away from her mouth.

"Quick," he gasped, "Under the bed." There was no time to argue or rethink what was actually a rather terrible plan. Harley hissed in pain as she rolled to the floor and positioned her body under the bed. Her bow and arrows were leaning up against the wall in the corner of the room. Which might as well be a million miles away for as much good as they were going to do her. She cursed under her breath. The only thing she had to defend herself with was a pitiful little hunting knife that was barely long enough to kill a walker. And she was in no shape to put up another physical fight.

Peeking out from under the bed, Harley could see the back of the man she had heard on the steps. He had a bandana on his head and a large fresh bandage tied up around his shoulder. Harley bit down on her lip until she could taste her own blood in her mouth. She felt powerless to control her reactions as her body start to quiver with fear. When she turned her head to glance at Rick he could see the fear in the girl's eyes. It shocked him. He hadn't had a lot of interaction with Merle's older daughter but he had spent enough time with the girl to know she didn't scare easy.

"It's them," she whispered. "The men who jumped me in the woods. It's them." Not only was she sure she recognized the man on the stairs she could hear the rest of the talking downstairs. They were yelling about finding her bra and Michonne's shirt soaking in that bucket. They were arguing about which one of them was going to get to rape her first when she came back to the house.

Harley's fear was slowing dissipating as her rage began to bubble up inside her. Anger had always been a comforting feelinf for her. It wasn't much but it had always been there to fill the empty places inside her. Her hand clenched, fingernails cutting into her palm. She could not take one more moment of waiting and watching under the bed. The man she had stabbed before was skulking around inside the bedroom. Only a few feet away from her now. So close she could smell him.

Harley was going to take him out with her knife as quietly as she could and then go for her bow. She was sure she could take out a few more of the men downstairs if she ambushed them without warning. Harley unclenched her fist. She reached down and pulled her knife from her belt. Getting a good grip on it, she started to move across the floor towards the edge of the bed. Rick grabbed her and pulled her back. He shook his head at her and held one finger up to his mouth to indicate he wanted her to stay put and be quiet.

If it wasn't for the terrribly precarious situation they were in Rick might have laughed when Harley thrust her middle finger into his face. She flipped him off but she also did as he had signalled her to do and stayed put. He put his finger to his mouth again and then pointed up towards the man that was settling in for a nap on the bed above them. Rick put his hand to his cheek and mimicked like he was sleeping. Then he made a stabbing motion with his hand. The message was clear. Let him fall asleep first. Then we will kill him and get the hell out of here.

Harley nodded. She pointed to herself and then repeated the stabbing motion Rick had made. If Rick was going to make her lie in wait while a disgusting man snorted and farted on top of them she wasn't going to let him have all the glory. She wanted to stab the man herself. Rick shrugged and nodded at her. This made the girl's lips curl up into an evil grin that reminded Rick so much of her father that it gave him a chill despite the hot cramped space he was stuck in.

The wicked smile on Harley's face quickly faded and her bottom lip began to quiver again. Rick reminded himself that as tough as she might act Harley was still nothing more than a frightened young woman who had been recently separated from her family. Rick hesitated a moment, not sure if she would appreciate any physical offers of comfort from him. Then his battered hand slowly crept over until it was wrapped around Harley's slimmer one. He wasn't sure what to expect and knew there was a chance she might just jerk her hand away from him. But she didn't. Instead her fingers twined into his and she slid her body a little closer to his under the bed.

With no clocks or working watches between them, time in the apocolypse always seemed to speed up or slow down depending on the circumstances. And waiting under the bed with the dust bunnies swirling around her, it felt like it took a hundred years for the man above her to fall asleep. But in the end he did. His snores became audible and obvious. Harley pressed her palms flat against the hardwood floor and started to ease her bruised and battered body towards the edge of the bed. The moment she got a little more than halfway out she heard footsteps on the stairs. Rick caught her by the shirt and dragged her quickly back under the bed with him. Harley cursed under her breath, wincing at the pain in her ribs.

Harley hoped the man on the steps might head for another room down the hall. But to her aggravation he stomped his filthy boots right up to the foot of the bed she was hiding under and woke his sleeping comrade. The toe of his boot was only inches away from her face. And Harley was tempted to whip her knife out and stab him in the foot. If she stabbed down hard enough she figured there was a chance she might make him lame in that foot. Or even give him tetanus. That would be nice slow death, a fitting end for a man of his low calibur.

After waking his sleeping companion, two men started fighting. Harley kept still and waited to see how the fight was going to play out. She figured if she was really lucky the two men might just kill each other. These men had to be some of the most ignorant people she had ever encountered. Fighting like children over who got the bigger bed when life and death were on the line was just plain stupid. It made her angry at herself that she had been clueless enough to let them get the jump on her in the first place.

The man that had come up the stairs second pinned the injured man to the ground and began choking him. He turned his head and looked right into Harley's face. She saw the instant flash of recogition in his eyes. And for a moment she was sure she was going to be found and caught by these men. But the man's companion did her a service. He choked the man who was staring at her until he passed out completely without giving him a chance to tell anyone that he had seen Harley and Rick hiding under the bed.

Once his comrade was knocked out cold on the bedroom floor, the other man climbed into bed above Harley and Rick. It didn't take him as long as it had taken the first man to fall asleep. Harley wasn't wasting any time. She slid out from under the bed and darted across the room to grab her bow, feeling thankful that none of the men had found it sitting slightly behind the open bedroom door and taken it.

With her weapons back, Harley started back towards the bed. Her knife was in her hand and she had a firm grip on it despite the sweat on her palms. Her intentions were to kill the man that was sleeping on the bed without waking him and then kill the man that was passed out on the floor. He had to go because he had seen her hiding under the bed. While these men were greedy and stupid, Harlye knew that if they had made it this long there was no way they were without survival skills. And the last thing she needed was to have them tracking her as she tried to get away from them.

Rick caught Harley by the arm, propelling her forcibly out of the bedroom. She yanked back, struggling against his grasp. But she couldn't fight back hard enough to get away from him without making more noise than she wanted too. There were still more of those men downstairs and she didn't want them to hear her. Rick tried the windows in the next bedroom but none of them would budge.

Harley paused a moment, her strong fight response warring inside her with the more sensible part of her brain that was telling her to get away while she had the chance. She slung her bow over her shoulder and darted towards one of the windows that Rick hadn't tried yet. Her ribs screamed as she applied as much upward force as she could. The window didn't budge. Now that she had chosen escape as her route Harley felt desperate to get out of this house. She followed Rick into the next room and started trying to open the windows in there. None of them budged and most looked like they had been painted shut.

Footsteps on the hall caught both Harley and Rick's attention. He pulled her with him, placing his body in front of hers and pressing them both against the wall behind a door. Harley's heart was beating so hard that she could hear it beating in her ears. Stringing an arrow would have made too much noise so she wiped her damp palm on her pantleg and adjusted her grip on her knife. She forced herself to take slow shallow breaths when what she really wanted to do was gasp and pant for air. The man came close enought that Harley could see the stubble on his face through the crack between the door and the wall. She would have never admitted it but she was grateful for the presence of Rick's heavier from between her and the other man. Especially since he was the one that had held her arms down while that other man had ripped at her clothes and humiliated her.

The man headed back out of the room. A few moments later Harley heard his heavy tread on the steps as he headed back down the stairs. Looking down, she realized her knuckles were white and Harley forced herself to relax her grip on her knife.

"Let's get the fuck outta here," she hissed. Rick nodded his agreement. He peeked around the corner to make sure the hallway was clear. Then he motioned for Harley to follow him. They had alreadt checked the windows in the bedrooms. So Rick pushed the bathroom door open and pulled Harley in behind him. She noticed the foul odor immediately and started scanning for a walker. But instead she turned her head only to come face to face with another of the men that had attacked her. He was sitting on the toilet with his pants around his ankles, apparently in the process of grunting out a very large and stubborn turd. The man seemed as surprised to see her as she was to see him. He opened his mouth, presumably to scream out a warning to his companions. But Rick grabbed him before he could, wrapping his arm around the man's neck to choke off his words.

The man swung his arms wildly, smacking into Harley and sending her slamming against the bathroom counter. She dropped her knife and had to dive for it. Coming up she lifted her arm. In one fluid motion she brought it down and sunk it into the man's chest. The knife made him bleed but the blade wasn't long enough to penetrate anything vital. Harley put her opposite hand on Rick's forearm and slashed at the man's throat, being as careful as she could not to cut Rick's arm up in the process.

Unlike the chest wound, which was only trickling, blood poured from the man's throat. With a choking gurgle he went limp and Rick released his body, letting it slide to the floor with a heavy thump. Harley wrinkled her face up in disgust at the sight of his naked lower body as she moved closer, correcting the grip she had on her knife so that she was ready to stab with it instead of slash.

"Let him turn," Rick hissed, pulling her back away from the body and shoving her towards the bathroom window. Harley felt her spirits lift as the window pushed up and open without much effort. She unhinged the screen. It feel outwards and landed on the roof with a loud slap. Harley jumped, startled by the loud noise. She didn't wait to see if anyone else heard it. Lifting one leg and trying to mind her ribs, she climbed out the small window and moved to the side so there was room on the small patch of roof for Rick to climb out behind her.

"Hold on," Rick said. His body was halfway out the window when he darted back inside the bathroom. He quielty eased the hallway door open. It took Harley a moment to catch on to what he was doing. Then she smiled. The dead man was going to turn. And with any luck he was going to reanimate quickly and then attack his former companions.

Rick scrambled awkwardly across the rooftop. He noticed that despite her injured ribs, Harley had no trouble balancing or propelling her body across the roof to the edge. She stopped at the edge and pressed her body flat against the shingles. Edging out, she dipped her head down to peek at the ground underneath them. As quickly as the girl recoiled from the egde, Rick knew she had seen something below.

"One of them is right under us," Harley mouthed at him in a voice that was scarcely above silently mouthing the words. She pointed down. Not only was one of them under her. It was the man that had mocked her and dumped liquor in her mouth. He scared her more than the rest of the men. Because he had seemed more in control of himself. She didn't want to be forced into another confrontation with him.

Gunshots rang out from inside the house. Harley dipped her head down again. She saw the man pick up his gun and head inside.

"Now!," she told Rick. The men inside were being so loud there was no longer a danger of her words being heard by them. Harley lowered her body and hung from the roof. Her ribs screamed out in protest. The pain shot through her and little black dots swam in front of her eyes. She had no choice but to let go as her hands and arms refused to obey her commands. Harley closed her eyes and braced herself for the hard landing she was about to take. But instead she found herself caught, her legs kicking out. Rick had caught her in his arms. But not very gracefully. Her forehead smacked into his and he winced and nearly dropped her. Taking a step back to steady himself he set the girl down on her own feet. He already had a head injury and taking another whacking blow made him feel dizzy and about to pass out. The world was moving by him in a blur.

Harley could tell that Rick was about to faint again. His face went pale white and his eyes started rolling back in his head. She grabbed for his arm, placing it over her shoulder. He was stumbling but at least he was still holding his own weight up. Harley wasn't sure how far she could drag the man. Just when she thought she couldn't take another step she looked up to see Michonne and Carl running towards her.

 ****Big thanks to anyone that took the time to leave a review. I was going for friendly and fatherly between Harley and Rick so I hope none of that came off sexual or romantic 'cause they are most definitely not getting paired together. ****


	44. Chapter 44

Red River Blue

Chapter 44

"Done with yer nap?"

The words were spoken directly into Glenn's face as he was pelted with a few drops of spittle. He wiped at his face as he forced his eyes to blink open against the bright sunlight. Pushing himself up into a sitting postion, he scootched himself slightly away from the man that was speaking to him. Merle Dixon had a way of getting into people's personal space that was just uncomfortable.

"What happened?," Glenn asked. Without waiting for a response he fired off another question, "Where are we?" He could tell he was in a moving vehicle. But the last thing he could remember was fighting to get through the scattered herd of walkers that had filled the prison yard after the governor's attack. His head was still pounding.

"Yer dumbass passed out," Merle graciously informed him. "Figured the back of this truck was better than leavin' ya on the side of tha road." The truth was that Merle had thought very seriously about leaving Glenn behind. And then thought even more seriously about leaving him in the back of the truck alone while he resumed his search for River without a tag-a-long. But in the end that hadn't felt right. Merle told himself he stayed because he intended to steal the truck they were riding in for himself. But the truth was that Glenn had just saved him from a horrible death by thrist and starvation and leaving him for the walkers was something even Merle wasn't willing to do.

"How long have we been on this truck?," Glenn asked. He was starting to feel the panic rising inside his body. This truck was driving fast. And it was headed in the wrong direction. Away from the prison. Away from Maggie. Every second that he sat in that truck was a minute of walking back the way they had come.

Glenn staggered to his feet. Not caring anymore if he was in Merle's personal space or if the man was in his, he stepped over Merle's legs and started pounding on the window of the moving truck. Merle leaned back and watched Glenn as the man began to throw what could only be described as a rather epic fit. He screamed and pounded on the window, demanding for the man driving to stop the truck. When all he got in response to his demands was the middle finger of the driver thrust against the glass, Glenn started pounding on the window with the butt of his gun. Glenn still couldn't fight for shit, but Merle had to admit he was a fiesty little fucker.

"Move," Merle hollered. He smacked at Glenn to move the man out of the way. Then he pressed the muzzle of his gun against the glass and pulled the trigger. He aimed high. Killing the occupants of the truck was not on his to do list yet. But he fully intended to show them that he meant business.

The girl inside the cab of the truck screamed and ducked down onto the floorboards, dragging the guy with the mullet along with her. The truck squealed to a hault, tossing both Merle and Glenn up against the back of the cab like rag dolls. Merle scrambled to his feet. He shoved Glenn's bag at him and then grabbed his own bag, which not not only contained the things he had scavenged from the prison but also everything he had taken from the supplies that were being stored in the back of Abraham's truck.

Merle had been thinking of ways to gain control of the vehicle. But he hadn't really had time to come up with a solid plan. Or time to talk Glenn into helping him, which he was fairly sure he could if he sold him on the idea that stealing the truck was the fastest way to find their wives. Glenn was already climbing down from the truck as the large red haired driver stepped out. Merle took a last longing glance at the vehicle, reminding himself that they could always find another car to hot wire along the way.

"What in the hell!," the large man exclaimed. He seemed to be angry about the gun that had been shot off near his person. As far as Merle was concerned the man ought to be happy the bullet didn't go straight through his brain. Merle assumed that the man planned to start a fight with them. He started feeling confused when instead of swinging on either of them, Abraham started up on some idiotic speal about how he needed their help to save the world.

Glenn had never been a violent person. He had no quarrel with the man that was yelling at him. And certainly had no wish to start a fight with a man that was almost twice his size. Until the man hollered out the most hurtful thing possible. That Maggie was dead. In the uncertain world they were currently living in, the possibility that he might never find Maggie again was all too real for Glenn. His hope and belief that she wasn't was the only thing keeping him going. Having that hope mocked was more than he could take. Glenn didn't think about the consequences. He turned and punched the man right in his big yapping mouth.

After he got over his shock at being suddenly attacked, Abraham raised his own fist and prepared to fight back. Glenn braced himself for the beating that was coming his way. But before Abraham could even pull his fist all the way back, a loud clunk rang out. It almost sounded like a child banging a wooden spoon down on a metal bowl. Abraham was knocked to the ground. Blood was dripping from his ear and the side of his mouth. Merle had hit him with the metal sleeve he wore over his arm. Glenn hadn't expected any help from the man. In his anger he had forgotten for a moment that Merle was even there.

"Come on," Merle said, yanking at the strap of Glenn's backpack in his impatience, "Let's take his fuckin' truck!" Glenn cast another glance at the man on the ground as he quickly calculated the possible scenarios that might arise from the situation he currently found himself in. He had not considered robbing these people before Merle hollered it at him. And he knew there was a strong possibility that if he refused to go along with the theft, that Merle would steal the truck anyway and leave him there in the road to get his ass beat.

Glenn nodded and started moving. He raised his gun. A woman dressed in shorts was pointing her gun at Merle and he was pointing his gun at her. They started yelling at each other. Glenn was surprised that the woman wasn't backing down despite the very nasty threatening words that Merle was exchanging with her. Glenn knew the man well enough that when he lowered his gun and took a step towards her that the standoff wasn't going to go well for the woman. Sure enough Merle darted in and grabbed her, twisting her wrist until she dropped her gun. He kicked the gun towards Glenn. Picking up the gun, Glenn tucked it into the back of his pants.

"Get your fuckin' hands off her!"

The cry came from behind Glenn and he raised his gun as he turned. The red haired man he had punched was staggering towards them, his gun pointed at Merle and the woman he had in a choke hold. Glenn wasn't sure what to do or how he had suddenly found himself in such a horrible position. But since he was afraid if the man shot Merle that he might be next, he held his gun up and pointed it at the bleeding man.

Everyone was screaming at the same time. And then a moment later you couldn't hear anything over the sound of rapid gunfire. There were walkers everywhere. The yelling and fighting had drawn them in. They were coming out of the corn fields on either side of the road in bunches. Glenn hesitated a moment longer. Then he turned and started firing at the walkers. Abraham did the same. Merle let go of his hostage and shoved a loaded handgun at her before he started shooting. Once the herd was down the smell of gasoline started to fill the air.

TWD

"Stop!," Glenn yelled, shoving at Merle's chest and trying to move him away from the large red haired man for what felt like about the tenth time.

"Just let them fight," Rosita suggested, already tired of the bickering between the two men that had started up after the truck was destroyed and continued on for another hour. The last time they started swinging at each other they busted the only gallon water jug left that was full of clean water.

Eugene called out to them and stopped the fighting. He had found a sign hanging near the railroad tracks. It was attached to a map that looked like it led to some sort of community. After some discussion and some more bickering between Abraham and Merle, it was decided that they would follow the tracks. They walked on for about a mile without any further arguments. The group spread out a little, which helped. It was easier to watch out for walkers if they weren't all walking in a pack.

Merle made sure to walk towards the back of the group. From there he could keep an eye on the people he didn't trust. This group oddly included everyone except Glenn, who was the one person he used to be sure he couldn't trust at all. Seeing that sign had started him wondering. If there was one sign, there had to be more. And if there were more, he guessed there was a possibility that River and his girls had seen one. He didn't trust the signs. Any community that advertised was either full to the brim with morons or full of smart people that had some evil intentions for the people they were trying to attract to their location. But he knew River wouldn't think that way. If she saw the signs Merle believed she would follow them. And either way he at least needed to check the place and make sure his girls weren't there.

Glenn rounded a bend in the tracks. A few moments later Merle heard the man calling his name. He raised his gun and started running, assuming that the man was in some sort of trouble. But when he got Glenn in his sights the man was just standing there wiping at his eyes. He pointed to a sign next to him. But Merle couldn't read it. Abraham was standing in the way. The large man turned, stepping aside to give Merle a view of what they had found. At first all Merle saw was another Terminus sign. They had seen two already so he wasn't sure what was so special about this one. Then he saw the writing under the sign.

There was a dead walker on the ground. It's chest was ripped open and had been dipped into. The note was written in blood. It was addressed to him, his girls and Glenn. It said for them to go to terminus. And it was signed by River, Maggie and two other members of the prison group. River had even drawn a little heart by her name.

Merle stepped forward, running his fingers across River's bloody signature. The blood was mostly dry but in the few places where it had gone on thicker the fluid still smeared slightly. That meant the women couldn't be more than a few hours ahead of them at the most.


	45. Chapter 45

Red River Blue

Chapter 45

Daryl felt bad for the way he had treated the girl. Getting sloppy drunk and being nasty to Beth was just another thing to add to his long list of regrets. He was trying his best to be kinder to her. She had just watched her father get his head chopped off. The least Daryl could do was show her some compassion. It wasn't her fault he got stuck alone with her and it wasn't her fault that the governor attacked the prison before Daryl had a chance to make Rick tell him where he had left Carol. Daryl was a skilled tracker but implementing those skills required a trail or at least a spot to start from.

"Maybe we could just stay here a while?," Daryl suggested. He didn't really think that staying another night in the funeral home was the his best plan ever. But Beth's injured ankle wasn't leaving them with a lot of other options. Forcing her to walk on it while it was still swollen was only going to make it worse and end up leaving them stuck for potentially longer than a few days.

Beth pulled another 2 liter of coke down from the shelf and smiled at him. Daryl smiled back, glad to see that she still seemed to be comfortable in his presence despite his drunken behavior at the moonshine shack. He still remembered how his mother used to flinch when his father got close to her and Daryl didn't think he could bear to have a woman react to him in that way. Especially Hershel's youngest daughter, a girl that Daryl knew had been raised by kind and loving parents.

Noises from the front porch alerted Daryl. He had set up a few tin cans on strings across the front door of the large house. They wouldn't keep anyone out, but they would make noise if too many walkers showed up. Daryl told Beth to stay put and darted for the front door, loading his crossbow as he went. He pulled the door open to find that a scraggly stray dog was the one that had set off his hillbilly security system.

"It's just a dog," he called out. Daryl held his hand out for the dog to sniff, hoping to coax the animal into coming close enough for him to grab it. The dog was either hand shy or wise to his trick because the moment Daryl reached for it, the damn animal took off running. Daryl sighed. He wasn't sure what he would have done with a flea ridden dog even if he had caught it. But in the moment, his childhood wish for a pet overtook the need to be practical. Standing up, Daryl shut and locked the door. He turned to find Beth hovering the hallway behind him.

"I thought I told you to stay back," he reminded her. She smiled, grinning sheepishly.

"But Daryl," she countered, "you said there was a dog." Daryl wasn't sure how old Beth was. He had never gave it much thought. But as she stared hopefully at him with her big blue eyes she looked so much more like a hopeful little girl than she resembled a grown woman. He felt even worse for being so rough with her before. In that moment Daryl made himself a promise. Beth was his responsibility now. Getting her back safe to her family was going to be his new mission. After that he would figure out his next move would be.

The food and the drinks were all room temperature. There was no safe place in the large house to start a fire even if they weren't already too hungry to wait until they got the soup heated up. Daryl used a spoon this time. A little peanut butter with some grape jelly, all washed down with warm soda. It wasn't gourmet but it was better than overcooked rattlesnake. Daryl and Beth sat at the table, eating in silence. He was letting his mind wander, thinking about some stupid shit he and Merle had done when they were kids.

"What made you change your mind?," Beth asked. Daryl swallowed down the mouthful of peanut butter he was working on. Her question had taken him by surprise and at first he wasn't sure what she meant. He had changed his mind about staying in the house. But he wasn't sure why. Part of it was because Beth needed to rest her ankle. Part of it was the fact that he was sick and dog tired of running. But there was something else. Beth's strong belief that there were still good people in the world and that maybe the person that had hidden the stash of food in the cupboard was one of them. Daryl wanted to believe that. Maybe he even needed to believe it.

"I'm sorry," Beth added. She stared down at her hands.

"Fer what?," Daryl asked. As far as he could see he was the one that had things to be sorry for.

"You would rather be out looking for her and you're stuck here with me," Beth explained. She was toying with the lid of an open can, running the tip of her finger along the sharpened edge. Her long blonde ponytail was falling forward over her shoulder, blocking part of her face from Daryl's view.

"Who ya mean?," he asked. Daryl wasn't playing stupid. He really had no idea what in the hell Beth was talking about. He wanted to go look for Carol. But he was convinced that Beth would have no idea of his intentions.

Beth didn't answer. Instead she started giggling. Her laughter made Daryl realize that perhaps he had not been as discreet about his feelings for Carol as he thought he had been. Merle knew. Daryl had never directly admitted anything to the man. But Merle knew. Which meant River knew if she hadn't already suspected. But other than his immediate family Daryl was under the impression that the rest of the prison group was oblivious to his love life or more appropriately his lack of a love life.

"Carol," Beth managed to spit out once her giggle fit was under control. She peeked out from under her hair and almost started laughing all over again at how red Daryl's ears were getting. "It's okay," she added, "I won't tell anyone you like her." Everyone with half a brain pretty much already knew about his not so subtle crush on the woman but Beth knew mentioning that wouldn't help Daryl to feel less embarrassed. Most people assumed that something was already going on between Daryl and Carol. Carol lived with the Dixons like she was part of their family. And their rooms were close together. Beth had assumed the same thing. But now that she saw how funny Daryl was acting, she realized that he had yet to make his move on the woman in question.

"I'm sorry Daryl," Beth said. She set what was left in her can of peaches down on the table and reached for his hand. He snorted at her but grudgingly allowed the contact. "I didn't mean to embarrass you," Beth apologized as she pinned his hand between her own.

Daryl squeezed back, holding Beth's small hand in his own larger one. He snorted again but this time he let the noise transform into a bit of laughter. What was really funny about the whole thing was Beth promising not to tell anyone about his crush. There was no one around to tell except the dead.

"Don't hav'ta feel bad," Daryl told the girl. "Gonna get ya back to yer family and then I will go on an' look fer her." There was no point in trying to deny what he was planning anymore. And it felt better than he thought it would to actually be able to talk about the things he had been holding inside for so long.

"No," Beth said. She said the word with a lot more conviction than Daryl had come to expect from the girl. "As soon as my ankle is better we are going to look for her together. You helped me and now I want to help you." Daryl was touched by her offer. He never put much time or effort into getting to know Beth. Since spending more time with her, Daryl was starting to realize that she reminded him of a little blonde mini version of her father. Everyone had loved and respected Hershel. Even Merle. And that was saying a lot. Daryl decided that if he had to be stuck with someone, maybe he hadn't drawn such a short stick after all.

Anther noise from the front porch drew Daryl's attention. He dropped Beth's hands and jumped to his feet, grabbing the opened jar of pigs feet from the table. Fishing one out he headed for the hallway as he called back to Beth, "Gonna give that mangy mut one more chance!"

 ****I'm not changing much from Daryl's storyline but I didn't want to leave him out entirely, sorry for the chapter being so short and big thanks to anyone that left a review.****


	46. Chapter 46

Red River Blue

Chapter 46

The smell of death and freshly turned dirt was filling the air around them. The light filtering in from the entrance slowly dimmed as they headed deeper inside the tunnel. The flashlight in Glenn's hand flickered, making both men freeze in place with nervous tension. After a few gentle taps against the palm of Glenn's hand the beam of light sprung back to life again. Merle felt for the lighter in his pocket, knowing that if the flashlight went out they were screwed no matted how much fluid was left inside the small metal square.

"Lets do this quick," Merle suggested. Glenn nodded his agreement as he cluched the flashlight tighter in his hand. The light had been a parting gift from Abraham. An unexpectedly kind gesture from the man that he and Merle had assaulted and tried to rob only a few hours before.

"Maybe we should go back?," Glenn suggested. Taking the long way around was sounding better and better the deeper underground they went. Now they were far enough inside the tunnel to see that part of the roof had collapsed. Various moving undead body parts stuck out from under the rubble. Merle shook his head.

"What if they're trapped in here?," Merle asked, reminding Glenn of the reason they had decided on entering such a dangerous area in the first place. The usual biting sarcasm was missing from his tone and Glenn realized that it was because Merle was just as afraid as he was. Afraid that more of the roof might collapse on them. Scared that a horde of geeks might be waiting for them on the other side of this walker gauntlert. But most of all terrified that they might find the undead bodies of their wives somewhere in this mess. It was a rare show of humanity from the man.

Merle tucked his gun away. He pulled a knife from his belt instead and began clearing a path for them to climb through. Glenn watched as Merle stabbed each walker between the eyes, then used their heads as a staircase to climb up to the top of the rubble pile. The ones he didn't stab with his knife got their faces stomped with his boots. Glenn followed his example, climbing the pile of uneven earth and jagged chunks of cement as best he could with one hand holding the flashlight.

Coming down the other side proved to be more difficult that going up. The earth slid under Glenn's feet and he almost landed facedown on a walker's open mouth. Merle snatched him up by the back of the shirt like a mother cat might lift a kitten and yanked him back into an upright position. Glenn yanked his knife out and stabbed the walker that almost had him for a snack through the eye socket. Then just to be safe Glenn stabbed it a few more times. He heard a low chuckle bubble out of the man next to him. The noise was low and quiet but the cement walls around them amplified it.

The next rubble pile was higher. They had to climb almost up into the broken of part of the ceiling to get over it. Glenn was able to slide around and under the large protruding metal rods easily. This same task took Merle a little longer. Glenn slid down and stabbed at the trapped walkers below while he waited for the larger man to pick his way through.

The last pile was not as tall as the second but it was much thicker with the dead. Their arms, legs and heads protruded from almost every possible surface. A loud creak sounded from somewhere above them, urging both men on more quickly than they had been moving before. Merle employed the same tactic as before. He stabbed as he went and used the body parts to propel himself upwards. Glenn followed behind him, breathing heavily through his nose since he had the flashlight clamped between his teeth to free his hands. They were almost through. Merle was already on the ground and Glenne was halfway down when he felt the ground shifting under his feet. He tried to make a jump for it but he moved a few seconds too late.

Glenn tumbled and fell down the pile, followed closely by a large sliding piece of the cement that had fallen from the ceiling. He could hear the hissing and snapping of walkers, encouraged by the sudden increase in noise. But it wasn't until he tried to get up that he realized his leg was trapped under the large chunk of cement that had slid down the steep incline behind him. Glenn twisted and turned, trying to free himself. But all he suceeded in doing was to dig himself in deeper.

"Well isn't this ironic?," Merle quipped. He stabbed a nearby walker before he leaned down and grabbed the flashlight off the ground. "Should give you a dull saw and let you cut yer way out," the man remarked as he knelt down and shined the light onto the large chunk of cement that was pinning Glenn in place. His sarcastic tone was back and Glenn snorted in irritation. Merle was enjoying his discomfort just a little more than Glenn was comfortable with.

Another loud metallic whine sounded from somewhere inside the thick ceiling of the tunnel. Suddenly being stuck inside the tunnel stopped being so funny. Merle pointed the light up towards the ceiling staring at the hundreds of tons of metal and concrete above them with a nervous look on his face. He stood up and stuck the flashlight in his pocket before he leaned down and gripped the edge of the large chunk of cement with his one good hand. He grunted with his efforts as he yanked upwards on the jagged block. But the heavy chunk of cement didn't budge on single fraction of an inch. Another creaking groan from above had him jumping to his feet and backing up a few steps.

"You should just leave," Glenn told him, "before we both die down here."

Merle didn't respond verbally. But he turned and walked away out of Glenn'ss range of sight. Glenn took this to mean that Merle had taken him up on his offer to be relieved of the responsibility of his death. But after a few moments the man reappeared with a long metal pole in his hands.

"Ain't gonna be able to hold it fer long," Merle warned him as he wriggled the long pole around to position it. "So as soon as I start lifting, start pulling." Glenn nodded. The flashlight was shoved back into Merle's pants pocket, bathing them both in an eerie almost darkness. "Ready. One. Two. Three. GO!" Merle tucked the pole under his bad arm and grabbed on with his one good hand, hanging from it with all of his weight in his attempt to budge the large hunk of rock. Glenn pulled as hard as he could. Once he felt his laces rip as his foot slid out of his boot of it he knew he was free.

Glenn leaped to his feet as Merle lost his grip on the metal pole. The large cement chunk went smashing down into the area where Glenn's foot had been stuck only moments before. The crash echoed off the tunnel walls. As it faded away, a louder creaking noise could be heard from above. The two men didn't wait to find out if the tunnel ceiling was going to hold. They turned and ran.

TWD

River pulled down the hankerchief she had wrapped around her head to cover her mouth and sucked in a breath of fresh air. They weren't out yet but the tunnel was getting lighter and she could feel the breeze from outside on her face and arms. The air inside the tunnel had been stale and smothering. She increased the speed of her stride, noticing that Maggie, Sasha and Bob were doing the same without any words of planning being exchanged between the four of them.

Her eyes had adjusted to the dim light inside the tunnel. So the sunshine became blindingly bright as the mouth of the tunnel got closer. Sasha was the first one to notice that there was a van parked right outside. And not an abandoned van. Three strangers with guns were blocking their path. Sasha flattened herself against the wall, pulling Bob along with her. River couldn't see the threat but she knew the woman well enough to trust that there was one. She dropped into a crouch near the opposite wall, signaling for Maggie to do the same.

River blinked and lifted her hand to shade her eyes. As she knelt in the rough uneven gravel, she was glad for the thick practical khaki colored utility pants that Sasha had talked her into wearing, even though they made her sweat in all the wrong places. They had saved her skin from a few hard walker scratches in the dark of the tunnel.

"How many bullets you got left?," she hissed at Maggie.

"Just the two we found on that dead body," Maggie whispered back. She flipped her gun open and shook one of the two bullets out. River smiled at the other woman as she held her hand out to take the small metal slug. So much could change in a day. A week ago she didn't think Maggie would have pissed on her if she was on fire. Now the woman was willing to give up one of her last remaining bullets to her.

The two women had teamed up together because they had a common goal. Neither of them had been very happy about it. River thought Maggie was a spoiled little snob. And Maggie thought River was the queen of all trailer trash. They began with a little bit of forced trust. No one could make it alone. It wasn't until the previous evening that they finally bonded.

Sasha and Bob took the first watch, leaving River and Maggie alone beside the dying fire. River couldn't get the thoughts of her girls out of her mind. She was overwhelmed with her fear for them and her burning need to hold her babies in her arms. It was the first time since before the outbreak that she had been separated from her children for any length of time. So River turned and cried as silently as she could, muffing her sobs with the thin material of the sleeping bag she had scavenged from an abandonded campsite. Her loneliness felt like it was consuming her from the inside out.

Just when River was feeling like she might drown in her own tears, she felt a gentle hand on her back. Maggie didn't speak any words of comfort to her. She just pushed on River's back, urging her to scoot over and make room for another person inside her sleeping bag. They cried together until both women were lulled to sleep by the combined body heat of two people tucked inside a single sleeping bag.

"What should we do?," Maggie asked. Since Sasha blew the roof of the tunnel to kill the herd of walkers that was after them, going back the way they had come was not an option. They could fight. But two bullets and a few sharpened knives was only going to get them so far.

"Yell at them," River suggested, "maybe it'll scare them off." Maggie nodded.

"Whoever you are you better get away from here!" Maggie shouted.

"Cuss," River suggested. Maggie hesitated for a moment before screaming out the dirtiest word she knew without any context at all.

"FUCK!"

Maggie could hear River snickering beside her. They sounded about as intimidating as children playing a game of dare on the bus. One of the people in the mouth of the tunnel was laughing loud enough that they could hear him. "You think you can do better?," Maggie muttered. River nodded and cleared her throat, coughing a little on the cement dust that was still lingering in the tunnel.

"GET THE FUCKIN' FUCK OUTTA HERE!," River screamed, "BEFORE WE HAFTA FUCKIN' SHOOT YA!"

"That was good," Maggie whispered. Even she jumped a little. However, the laughing man outside was not as intimidated as Maggie would have been in his position. He rested his large fully loaded gun on his shoulder and took a few steps towards the spot where River's voice had come from. River's eyes were finally starting to adjust to the light. It shined into the tunnel from behind the man, lighting up the red hair on his head like a copper halo. He wasn't pointing his gun at them, which felt confusing. Because River was definitely pointing her gun at his big ginger ass.

"You got one hell of a mouth on you sweetheart," the man announced, "lemme guess, you're Merle's wife?"


	47. Chapter 47

Red River Blue

Chapter 47

Her body was tense with anticipation. River took one more drag off the half mangled cigarette she had found down in the bottom of her bag and flicked it to the ground, snuffing it out with the toe of her boot. She didn't smoke often and now regretted that she had. The nicotine had only made her feel more jittery than she was before. And now her fingers stunk. Rosita reached over and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. River forced herself to stop grinding her teeth and give the other woman a smile.

Maggie was pacing back and forth in the wide mouth of the tunnel. She looked like a lion in one of those tiny cement enclosures at the zoo, before it became popular for the zoos to make all the cages look like the animal's natural habitat. As River watched her, morbid curiosity filled her mind and she wondered what had happened to all the zoo animals when the world ended. They must have all starved to death. Or been ripped apart by walkes. River rubbed at the gooseflesh that was forming on her arms despite the heat of the day. She tried to think of happier things. But now that it had settled in the pit of her stomach, the sense of foreboding she got watching Maggie pace back and forth just refused to be shaken off.

"That's it," River announced, "I'm goin' in after them." She knew they had all agreed to wait. But if she stood around for one more minute she was going to lose her mind. River grabbed her pack up off the ground. She was preparing to sling it over her shoulders when she heard the cough. The sound echoed off the walls inside the tunnel, leaving no question as to where the noise had come from. Maggie stopped her pacing. River let the straps of her bag slip through her fingers as it fell to the ground with a thump and a jingle from the zipper on her sleeping bag.

"Glenn?," Maggie hollered into the darkness. There was a pause. It was only a few seconds but it felt like hours to the people waiting impatiently for a response.

"Maggie!"

The voice came from inside the tunnel. A hoarse cough followed it but there was no doubt that the wait was finally over. At least for Maggie. The woman took off running into the dark despite Sasha's warnings that she ought to wait and let the men come out. River took up Maggie's spot in the opening of the tunnel. Her heart was thundering in her chest. Maggie's pounding footsteps could be heard. And then they were replaced by the sound of sobbing and a muffled conversation that River couldn't make out all the words too.

The more River tried to see something in the dark depths of the tunnel the less she felt like she could see. The shadows played tricks on her eyes. Trying to make silhouettes out of them was making her eyes go crossed. Finally she laced her hands behind her head and blinked her eyes shut.

With her eyes closed it was easier to concentrate on only listening. The quiet voices inside the tunnel started to become more distinct. The crunch of gravel under their boots got closer. The whoosh of air hit her first. Someone was coming at her fast. Merle's body collided against hers with so much force that he would have knocked her to the ground if he hadn't lifted her up off her feet. River never thought stinky sweat and cigar smoke could smell so good. Her feet were dangling a few inches above the ground so she bent her legs and hooked her ankles under his ass, letting her legs and arms support some of her own slight weight.

She tasted like smoky mint and felt like heaven in his arms. The guilt over being so happy when the girls were still missing would come later. But for now all Merle could think about was how much he wished their last reunion had been like this one. And that he finally had River back. All the way back. The in his arms and kissing him harder than he was kissing her kind of back.

They kissed for what felt like no time and was in actuality a rather long time for everyone that was standing around looking at them. So long that people started laughing even though some of them were crying. Merle felt River's legs unhook from around his waist. He lowered her down gently. The moment her toes touched the ground she collapsed into his chest. Her hands fisted into his shirt as her emotions started to pour out of her. Her shoulders shook violently with her sobs. And for once he didn't have to ask her why she was upset or try to figure out what in the hell he had done wrong this time.

"We'll find them," he told her. Merle said it because it was the right thing to say. He didn't even know how much he believed the words until he spoke them. "We're gonna find them." River had always been his good luck charm. When he was with her, things had a funny way of going right instead of wrong. When Merle was fighting overseas, he always kept her picture in the inner pocket of his jacket. And while he was to much of a tough sumbitch to ever admit pansy ass shit like that aloud to anyone, Merle really and truely believed that her picture had protected him and kept him safe. There was no other way to explain how he had managed to make it out of so many dire situations. Fights where others died and he lived.

TWD

Glenn shifted his body, trying to get closer to Maggie without taking his foot down from the backpack it was propped up on. After he lost his boot to the large chunk of cement that had almost killed him, Glenn had then somehow managed to slice his foot open on a large chunk of glass. Merle had to basically carry him the rest of the way out of the tunnel. The man had mumbled insulting comments to him the entire time. And made a few off color jokes. But he didn't let him go until Maggie came slamming into them both and knocked him to the ground.

Rosita patched his foot up for him. Abraham found him a new pair of boots. And everyone agreed to camp in the mouth of the tunnel instead of moving on so that Glenn could have a chance to rest his foot and let the wound close up. Another audible moan sounded from the other side of the small campfire, reminding Glenn that perhaps other people had there own reasons for wanting to set up camp early.

They had the decency to wait until it got dark. Glenn would give them that. But that was where their discretion ended. The moment Merle and River got done splitting the can of soup they were eating for dinner, they went directly to her sleeping bag. And they had been rutting around in the mentioned bag for what Glenn was pretty sure had to be going on at least and hour and a half. Privacy was a luxury that no one could afford anymore. So Glenn tried his best to pretend he couldn't see or hear what they were doing. That worked for about the first fifteen minutes. Until River decided she needed to get out of the sleeping bag to go relieve herself. At which point she walked through their small makeshift camp with a huge knife in her hand, wearing nothing but her unlaced boots. Eugene had nearly broken his own neck turning to look at her. Rosita leaned over and bopped him right on top of his head with her fist.

Glenn kissed Maggie's head and pulled her tighter against his chest. Across the fire he could see the light reflecting off the pale length of River's leg, which was protruding from the sleeping bag.

"Think we will still be like that in 20 years?," he teased. Maggie giggled and tilted her head back to plant a few small kisses along his jawline. Her hand slithered into his pocket. She had been looking to get a handful of what was inside his pants, but pulled her hand back out holding a polaroid picture of herself.

"I hate this picture," Maggie announced. She sat up and cocked her wrist back like she was preparing to launch it frisbee style into the campfire. Glenn caught her wrist before she could finish the motion. He retrieved the picture from her with his other hand and slid it back into his pocket before she could dispose of it. "You don't need a picture of me," Maggie told him, "Because I'm not going anywhere. Not ever again." Glenn smiled and pulled her down for a kiss.

"It's for luck,"Glenn explained. "Merle saw me looking at it. And I thought he was going to be a total dick about it. But he said in the service he used to carry a picture of River with him. For luck."

"That's sweet," Maggie said.

"He said it was a naked picture," Glenn added. Maggie tried to muffle her laughter, her body trembling against his. Another loud moan from the other side of the fire crumbled her resolve and she flopped onto her back, laughing so hard that tears started to roll from the corners of her eyes.

"You are not taking a naked picture of me," Maggie said once she got her laughter under control. Glenn hadn't meant that he wanted one, but he played along with her anyway. Telling her that he promised not to show anyone and that her face didn't need to be in the picture. Soon the laughing led to kissing and the kissing led them to climb into their own sleeping bag.


	48. Chapter 48

Red River Blue

Chapter 48

 **** The Claimers are in this chapter, so there will be some sexual violence and also a lot of regular violence. Nothing happens that's any worse than anything that happened on the show but just to be safe I like to throw up a warning.**

 **I think I explained this in a previous AN, but I didn't change much about Daryl and Beth's storyline after the prison fell. Beth still got kidnapped and Daryl still ended up with Joe and his gang. ****

"How you doin' over there lover-boy?," Harley teased. She ticked her chin just slightly to her left, glancing over at Carl before immediately turning her attention back to the task at hand. Her fingers were laced together behind her back as she carefully placed one foot in front of the next.

"Quit calling me that!," Carl protested loudly. He turned towards Harley as he spoke, almost causing him to lose his balance. When she laughed Carl realized that the older girl had been baiting him, calling him a nickname he hated on purpose to try and make him lose his concentration. "Yer a cheat," Carl announced.

Carl's accusation was met with more laughter, from both Michonne and Harley. Harley was laughing at him and Michonne was laughing at her. The young woman's attitude never failed to amuse the woman. And Michonne had to admit that Harley reminded her a bit of what she had been like as a girl. Whatever game Harley played she played to win. There was no doubt in Michonne's mind that the girl would walk on the narrow metal beam that ran along the side of the railroad tracks until she fainted with exhaustion if that's what it took to beat Carl.

"Hey look!," Michonne hollered, pointing into the woods to their right, "A naked walker!" Harley whipped her head in the direction that Michonne had indicated, quickly swinging her bow off her back and into her hands. The motion threw her off balance and Harley was forced to step down onto the rough wooden planks of the tracks. She loaded and arrow into her bow, wincing at the pain in her ribs as she strung it back. It wasn't until she heard Carl and Michonne laughing behind her that she realized there was no naked walker and that she had just been given a taste of her own medicine.

"Damn it all to hell," Harley cursed. She was smiling again, biting at her lower lip to try and keep from laughing along with them. Carl smiled back. He had never spent much time with the older of the two Dixon girls. To tell the truth he had been a little intimidated by her. Harley came off very intense and unusally serious for a teenager. Now that he had been able to spend some more time with her, Carl had quickly become comfortable with the young woman. He had always wondered what it might be like to have an older sibling and now he knew. It was annoying and amazing at the same time. He was slowly working up his courage to ask Harley for an archery lesson. The things she managed to hit with her bow impressed him. And unlike a bullet from his gun, she was able to take her arrows back and use them again.

"Carl gets first choice," Michonne announced as she hopped down off the beam herself. She dug into the front pocket of her bag and pulled out the last few pieces of candy that she had. Carl didn't hesitate. He took the biggest candy bar for himself, earning him a disappointed sigh from Harley.

Rick slowed down, allowing the kids to pass him by so he could walk in step with Michonne. She dumped a small pile of stale M&M's into her leather clad palm, putting the rest of the bag away for later. The woman didn't make a verbal offer. Michonne had always been a woman of few words. But she held her palm up between them so Rick could share in what might be the last treat they were going to have for a while.

Rick tossed his arm around Michonne's shoulders. He told himself that he just needed her to help him with his balance. He felt fine considering what he had been through physically, but there was still something weird going on with his depth perception. His left ear was ringing.

Once they finished the candy, Michonne wrapped her arm around his waist, her hand resting lightly on his hip. He was surprised by how comforting it was to be in Michonne's personal space. Rick smiled down at her. She was still laughing at the kids. After all their big talk of competition, Harley and Carl had split the candy between them. Then Harley pulled Carl into a playfull headlock and roughed up his long hair with her other hand. He bumped her ribs pulling away and she let out a little yelp of pain. Rick thought about scolding them for playing too rough. But he was having too much fun watching the two of them interact to put a stop to it. He always regretted not giving Carl a sibling. Lori was the one that didn't want another baby. Because she didn't want any more stretch marks.

"We should start looking for a place to make camp for the night," Michonne suggested.

"Already?," Rick asked. He assumed the plan was to walk until they lost the light. The sooner they got where they were going the sooner they would find out if the people they were looking for were there.

"She's getting winded," Michonne told him, lowering her voice so Harley wouldn't hear her and start up her incessant squaking about how she was fine and she could take care of herself. Rick nodded. He wasn't exactly feeling one hundred and ten percent himself. Resting and getting a good night's sleep sounded appealing enough to him that he had no interest in fighting Michonne on what she felt needed to be done. It had been so long since someone had taken care of him that he had forgotten how good it felt.

The small group walked another half hour before they found a good spot to settle in for the night. There was a large SUV off to the side of the tracks that was big enough for them to sleep in. Water from a creek only a short walk away. And according to Harley there were a shitload of animals tracks around.

TWD

The fire was burning low. Rick had banked it as best he could but he knew it would burn out before the night was over. They didn't collect enough wood to keep it going all night. The air around them was cooler than it had been earlier in the day. Rick was grateful that it wasn't cold enough that they needed the fire for warmth. The flames had only been necessary for cooking the food and boiling their water. After that he had kept it going simply for the comfort that having a little light in the dark brought them.

Harley and Carl had retreated to the SUV some time ago. They holed up in the front seat. Harley was in the reclined driver's seat and Carl was scrunched up across the rest of the wide bench seat, using Harley's lap as a pillow. Rick had peeked in on them a few minutes before. Harley slept with one hand on her knife and the other resting on Carl's head, protecting the boy even as she slept. He felt a momentary pang of guilt, remembering when the girl and her family had first arrived at the prison and how he hadn't wanted them there.

Michonne was sitting so close to Rick that their hips were touching. The physical closeness had been established when she was helping him to walk along the tracks. And Rick guessed she had felt as comforted by him as he had by her, since she had shown no interest in trying to move away from him since.

His arm was around her shouders, one finger tracing lazy circles up and down the length of her bicep. She was still knawing at a tiny bit of meat that was left on the bone of the beaver Harley had shot and roasted over the fire for them. Michonne's other hand was resting on his knee. They talked quietly for a while, neither of them quite relaxed enough yet to be able to get any sleep.

The sky was clear and the moon was hanging above them in a tiny sliver, making all the stars visible. Michonne pointed out the constellations she knew. She told him her favorite was Cassiopiea. And that she had briefly considered a philosophy major before she switched over to pre-law. It was the most Rick had ever heard the woman reveal about herself and instead of being satisfied with the new information he found himself hungry to know more about her.

"You know what tonight is?," he asked her.

"Spaghetti Tuesday?," Michonne teased. Her smile faded when the thought of the joke reminded her of the man that used to like making it. And the terrible crunch of her sword when had been forced to kill Hershel's reanimated head. Michonne tossed the bone she had been nibbling on into the fire. Rick shifted his body, tucking the woman into his side.

"It's New Year's Eve," he told her. Michonne snorted out a quiet laugh. She had stopped keeping track of the days and months a long time ago. But she knew not everyone had been so quick to give up the habit of at least knowing what month it was. "Six days ago Hershel had that Christmas candle ceremony for everyone," Rick added. He wasn't sure how long he had been unconcious but he was sure it hadn't been for longer than a day.

"I don't think it's sunk in yet," Michonne sighed. "...that everything is gone. Hershel. The prison. Everything."

Her tone was soft and sad. Tears were glistening in her eyes. She looked vulnerable in a way that Rick had never seen before. He lifted his hand, pulling her head against his chest as he stroked over the soft round of her cheek with his fingers. Rick kissed her. But not on the lips. He still wasn't sure if they were at that level of intimacy yet. But he pressed his lips to her forehead and lingered there. It was Michonne that made the first move. Much like she had when she offered him the candy earlier in the day, she didn't speak. One minute she was cuddling against his chest and the next her hand was stroking over the buldge in his jeans.

Rick was leaning down to press his lips to hers when he heard the snap of a twig behind them. He turned, reaching for his knife. But it was too late. There was a gun in his face and another one pressed to Michonne's temple. At first Rick thought they were only being robbed. They didn't have much. And certainly nothing that he was going to fight anyone for. He didn't make the connection between these men and what had happened at the house earlier that day until one of them spotted Harley sleeping in the truck and started yelling.

"There she is! That's the fucking bitch that killed Billy and stabbed fucking Tony!," a fat man with a balding head hollered from near the truck. The loud voice woke Harley with a jolt. She grabbed for her bow but it was too late. One of the men was already dragging Carl out of the truck with a knife to the boy's throat. Harley strung an arrow in her bow and pointed it at the other man that had yanked her door open.

"Oh no you don't you bitch!"

Harley's head snapped towards the voice. The grey haired man that had ripped her shirt open had a gun pressed against the side of Rick's head. She also noticed that the man who had been thinking about dragging her out of the car had backed up when she pointed her bow at him. He was afraid of her. Maybe not enough that he wasn't still going to try something. But scared enough that he backed away. She swung out of the SUV and pointed her arrow at the man that spoke to her. She was pretty sure he was the leader. The thoughts in her head started swirling. All bullies were nothing but cowards that put on a good show. If she killed the leader, the rest might run. But the grey haired man wasn't as stupid at the rest of his men. He shifted his body, using Rick as a human shield.

"Put that bow down you little whore," he demanded, "or you are going to watch lover boy there bleed out on the ground and then we are still going to have you anyway." He ticked his head towards the man that was holding a knife to Carl's throat. The man tightened his grip, holding the knife so close that he knicked the side of Carl's neck. Harley knew then that she was fucked. These men had been following her all day. They had been close enough that they had heard her nickname for Carl.

"Okay!," Harley screamed. She cursed under her breath and tossed her bow to the ground at her feet. Before she could contemplate her next move, the young woman was immediately seized by her hair and drug backwards. She could hear her hair ripping from her scalp. The piercing pain was so intense that little grey dots swam in front of her eyes. Harley felt her blue eyes watering up but she blinked the tears away, refusing to let these men make her cry. The man pushed her up against the hood of the SUV she and Carl had fallen asleep in. She put her arms out to keep her ribs from being slammed again and her elbows crunched against the metal hood, leaving a dent in the car and what would later be two more colorful bruises for Harley to add to her collection.

Harley could hear Rick trying to reason with the leader of the group. She thought about telling the man not to waste his breath. It was pointless to try and bargain with people who's only end game was causing as much pain to other people as possible. His words were a blur to her. The only thing Harley could concentrate on was the knife that was being held in front of her face as the man behind her fumbled around behind her, trying to get his pants down. She could feel the bile rising up and she swallowed hard a few times.

"Get the fuck off her!"

The voice was familiar and so unexpected that for a second Harley was sure that she was still sleeping safely inside the SUV and this was all a horrible nightmare. But when she turned her head to look, she saw her Uncle Daryl standing next to the man that had his hand down her pants, pointing a knife of his own at the man's face.

"She's already claimed!," the man behind Harley complained, "Ya kin have yer fuckin' turn once I'm done."

"No one's gettin' a turn," Daryl hollered, "that's my fuckin' neice. Get the fuck off her right the fuck now!" Daryl hesitated, looking like he was going to give the man a few more seconds to back away on his own. Then he lunged forward and stabbed the man through the eye socket. Before the man's body even hit the leaves under his feet the small area around the campfire exploded into chaos.

Harley hit the ground, landing hard on her knees. She grabbed her bow and strung it back. Two men were figthing her Uncle Daryl. Harley took one deep breath and forced herself to let it out slowly. Three seconds later one her arrow hit one of them square in the gut. He fell back, grabbing at the arrow like he was going to be able to save himself by pulling it back out.

The rest of her arrows were still in the SUV. So Harley grabbed for the knife that the man Daryl killed had been holding on her. She could hear Carl struggling with the man that had grabbed him. When the man saw Harley coming he drug the boy back in front of him, holding a knife to his throat. Most of his friends were already dead or dying. The man looked frightened and desperate.

"Get back!," he ordered, "Or I'll cut 'im up."

"Let him go!," Harley barked. To her surprise the man relaxed his grip on Carl. The boy darted away and ducked behind Harley, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face into her back. It was then that she noticed the man's pants were down. He had been planning to rape Carl. It was bad enough those men had planned to force sex on her. And probably Michonne. But it really sickened her that they would have done the same to the boy. Harley liked Carl. He was a tough little sumbitch as her father and uncle liked to say. But he was still only a child. Harley felt protective over him like she did towards her younger sister.

"Hold on," Rick said, putting his hand gently on Harley's forearm before she could loose her arrow into the man, "This one is mine." Rick's face and shirt were covered in blood. It looked almost black in the moonlight. Harley hadn't seen what happened but he looked like he was killed at least one of the men with his bare hands. Harley hugged Carl to her, not caring if he was holding on to her so tight that it hurt her ribs. She didn't look away while Rick stabbed the last member of the group that had attacked them to death.

Michonne pulled Carl away, wrapping him up in her arms. He wasn't crying anymore but his face had gone blank. Harley thought he looked like he might be in some kind of shock and she wondered how far that sick pervert had got into his depraved act before she stopped him. It had obviously gone far enough that Carl had figured out what the man had intended to do to him.

Harley felt Daryl's arms wrap around her. The familiar smell of sweat and leather was like heaven. She felt powerless to stop the tears from spilling over. Daryl held her against his chest until her emotional outbust was over. Then he slipped his leather jacket off and draped it over her shoulders. He had an arm wrapped around her. When Rick approached Harley felt Daryl's body go tense.

The two men stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Harley knew the two men had some sort of fight. But in the end they were all on the same side. There was no point in holding grudges over things that couldn't be changed now.

"I'm sorry about Carol," Rick finally said, "I was wrong." He stuck his hand out like he meant for Daryl to shake it. But Harley reached behind her Uncle and gave him a hard shove forward. He bumped into Rick awkwardly. But then the two men hugged. End of the world or not it was still funny to see two grown men hug. Harley could count on her fingers the number of times she had seen her Uncle and her father hug each other. She laughed at the funny way they whacked at each other's backs. Then she rushed forward and squeezed in between so she could hug them both at the same time.


	49. Chapter 49

Red River Blue

Chapter 49

The cut on Mika's stomach was long and jagged. It bled so much that it soaked her shirt and the top of her pants. But once Carol got back and cleaned it out, Wren was relieved to see that it had looked a lot worse than it was. Wren held Mika's hand while Carol disinfected the cut and put a few stiches to hold the skin together while it healed. After the cut was bandaged up, the bleeding stopped.

There was a small meadow full of wildflowers near the cabin. Tyreese dug a narrow hole. He wrapped Lizzie's body in the bloody quilt that Judith had been playing on only a short time before. His emotions were all over the place but Tyreese managed to keep control over them while he dug the grave. The vigorous physical activity helped. Being physical had always been something that he enjoyed. It allowed him to clear his mind of everything that was bothering him and just focus on the task at hand. But when he placed Lizzie's body down in the small dug out patch of earth Tyreese fell to his knees and began to cry.

She looked so small down in the ground. Crazy and dangerous or not, she was nothing more than a child that should have had her whole life in front of her. He cried for Lizzie. For Sasha wherever she was. For his parents that hadn't even survived the first wave of the outbreak. But mostly he cried for Karen and the horrible violence that had been inflicted upon her.

"I'm sure she went quickly," Carol said. Her voice was soft and soothing and the hand she placed on his shoulder was a welcome comfort. Tyreese grabbed her smaller hand in his own and squeezed it.

"Thank you," he responded. "I only wish I could say the same for Karen." Tyreese looked up at Carol. Her facial expression didn't express the sadness and mouring he expected to see. Instead she looked nervous.

"You know something about that don't you?," he asked. Tyreese used all his self control to keep his tone even. If he scared Carol he knew the chances of her telling him anything were far less likely. "You know who killed her, don't you?," Tyreese asked again, his voice softer this time. Carol nodded her head and looked down at her feet. Tyreese waited a moment but when she still didn't speak he added his suspicion, "It was Daryl or his brother, wasn't it? Is that why you don't want to say? Because you're protecting them?" Tyreese had never had any personal problems with either man, but the Dixon brothers had always given him a bad vibe. The rumor was that they had both been involved in criminal activites in their old lives. So as far as Tyreese was concerned they just seemed like the most likely suspects to have committed a murder.

"No." Carol was quick to come to Daryl's defense. He would never hurt a woman. The same went for Merle as long as he was sober. And their mother had died in a house fire. So Carol had been certain they were off the list of suspects as to who killed Karen and set her on fire. The idea that Daryl might be blamed for something that she did was disturbing and upsetting.

"Who was it then," Tyreese coaxed. "Whoever it is I would never let them hurt you," he added just in case Carol was keeping silent because she was afraid of the person or persons.

"...I went down to check on them," Carol began. She was afraid of what Tyreese's reaction to her confession would be. But she also knew he wasn't going to be able to start letting go of his grief until he knew the truth. And it would be better for everyone if he heard it from her instead of finding out some other way.

"David was already dead. Karen was choking on her own blood. She was dying. There was blood coming out of her nose. Her eyes. I didn't want her to suffer. I burned the bodies to try and keep the flu from spreading. I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you."

The story was close to the truth. Karen would have died no matter what. But Carol had killed her to stop the spread of the sickness, not to ease her suffering. And while there was no doubt in her mind that Karen would have died no matter what, maybe she wasn't quite as far along in the progression of the disease as Carol had described. And River had helped her drag the bodies out and burn them. Carol left her involvement out of her story. Tyreese didn't need to know all of that. None of it would help to ease his pain.

Carol breathed out a long breath. She stayed still and fought the urge to grab her knife in case Tyreese reacted badly. Thus far his only reaction was the look of complete and total shock on his face. When he finally spoke Carol could hear the pain but also some relief in his voice.

"Why didn't you just tell me that before?," he asked.

"When you found out Karen was dead you attacked Rick," Carol reminded him, "I was afraid."

Tyreese nodded his head. He was still holding onto Carol's hand but she no longer had to fight the urge to yank away from him. Instead she reached down and cupped his face with her free hand. The large man leaned into her touch the way a child or a puppy might. Carol allowed him to pull her closer and rest the side of his face against her stomach. They held onto each other for a while, both of them grieving for the dead child lying only an arm's reach away as well as everyone else they had lost along the way.

TWD

They stayed at the cabin for an extra day to let Mika's stomach heal up. The place was relatively safe. Safe enough that they could have done as Tyreese suggested and stayed there much longer. There was running water and the small building could have easily been fortified to keep smaller herds out. But the ghostly image of what Lizzie had done was hanging in the air around the place. Everyone was eager to move on and leave the horror of what had happened behind them. Carol gave up her secret hopes that if she stayed in one place long enough Daryl would be able to find her as she rearranged Judith's diaper bag so all the formula they had would fit inside.

Wren put a double layer of gauze over Mika's stomach in the hopes that it would keep the dead from being able to smell the blood. Mika had been much quieter than usual since her sister passed. Wren guessed the girl was torn between being sad about her sister's death and feeling relieved to be rid of her tormentor. Having an older sister herself, Wren was more than well aware of the complications involved in sibling relationships. Harley had never hurt or abused her in the same way that Lizzie had done to Mika but she did have a problem with her anger. Wren could remember a few times when she wished she knew where her father was so she could go live with him and thus gain a break from listening to her sister fight with their mother.

With her superior sewing skills, Carol had improved the sling they were using to carry Judith. The little girl was fastened securely to Tyreese's back, her sleepy head resting between his shoulder blades and her little legs dangling down below her. They followed the tracks and looked for more of the signs they had seen before. The ones that offered Sanctuary for all. Wren kept a close eye on Mika, watching the injured girl to make sure she wasn't getting winded or pushing herself too hard.

Terminus was getting closer and closer. A few times they had even been able to spot the top of the tall building through the breaks in the tree line. Carol was carrying Judith in her arms while Tyreese lugged her heavy diaper bag along like it weighed next to nothing. Wren heard out the loud crunch of leaves and turned towards the noise to see a lone walker that had stumbled out onto the tracks behind them.

Carol started to hand Judith over to Tyreese so she could take care of the monster but Wren waved her off. She pushed Carl's hat back on her head to make sure the brim wouldn't fall forward and block her line of sight. Her fingers flexed around the handle of her knife. Killing the dead was getting easier. She no longer froze with fright at the sight of a walker coming at her. Wren wasn't tall like her sister. She like to kick the walker's knees out first to make it easier to stab them. But this one wasn't much taller than her. Wren raised her knife above her head and stabbed down directly into it's half rotted skull. The force of her blow sent Wren flopping down onto the tracks on top of the dead walker. She wrinkled up her nose at the rotten meat smell as she reached for Carl's hat. It had fallen off when she hit the ground. When she turned her head her eyes got wide. A whole herd of walkers was coming right at them.

"Walkers!," she hissed. Tyreese grabbed her, pulling her quickly to her feet. The same panic was written on all of their faces. One moment they had been fine. The next the dead were everywhere. Carol motioned for them to follow her into the woods. The only place to hide was behind a fallen tree. It wasn't a very good hiding place. Wren glanced nervously at Judith. She knew if the little girl started making noise they were all as good as dead. There were too many dead for them to fight. Mika was breathing hard and fast. Wren pulled the younger girl into her arms.

"Close your eyes," she whispered, "Don't look at them." Mika hugged her back, her fingers fisting into the material of the well worn denim jacket that Wren had found in the cabin and claimed for herself.

Just when Wren thought there was no hope left, loud popping sounds from somewhere not so far away drew the herd away from them. Her first thought was that the noise sounded like gunfire. But after listening more carefully she thought it might be fireworks. She had never thought of using fireworks to distract the walkers but it wasn't the worst idea she had ever heard.

Once the larger part of the herd passed them by, Carol signaled for them to move. They weren't heading towards any specific location, but only trying to put some distance between themselves and the herd. So Wren was surprised when a small cabin loomed up in front of them. Mika started towards it but before she got even a few steps Wren snagged her by the back of the shirt and pulled her back.

"I hear a car coming," Wren warned. Carol handed Judith back to Tyreese and gestured for him and Mika to duck down behind a bush. Wren had been right about what she heard. Not more than a few seconds later a car pulled up in front of the run down cabin. Only one young man got out. He appeared to be alone and had a large bag with him.

"Should we say something?," Tyreese whispered. Carol shook her head. She wanted to see what the man was doing first. Wren shifted her weight, leaning to one side so she could get a better view of the stranger. She had been right about the car and she had been right about the fireworks too. The man was unloading what looked like more of them out of his bag and setting them up in a row on the ground in front of the cabin. The walkie talkie on his hip chirped. The noise made Wren jump and she felt silly for being startled so easily.

Everything seemed to be on the up and up. Until the man started talking. What he said made Wren's arms prickle up with goosebumps under the thick demin of her jacket. She couldn't make out what was being said on the other end of the conversation but she could hear the man clearly.

"...the chick with the sword, she should have gone first... The guy with the crossbow... I want his leather vest after they bleed him out... Yeah, the one with the wings on it..."

Carol was behind the man with her gun to the back of his head before Wren knew what was happening. The girl scrambled to her own feet and hurried over, snatching the walkie out of the man's hand before he had a chance to alert whoever was on the other end.

The man attempted to start up some sort of negotiations. He invited them back to his camp. He said they would be safe there. Wren could feel the anger rising inside her. She kept replaying the man's words in her mind. _I want his leather vest after they bleed him out._ That man was talking about killing her uncle. And Michonne. They might have Carl. Her mother. Harley. If they had her Uncle Daryl they might have her dad too.

"Shut up!," Wren hollered at the man. He was a liar. Carol gave her a pointed glare. Wren needed to keep her voice down. They didn't know how many other people were around. Or how many of the dead.

"Hey," the man protested, "there's no reason for this to get ugly."

"We're friends with the chick with the sword and the guy with the crossbow," Carol informed him. The man turned back towards Wren just in time to see her balled up fist flying at his face. She punched him square in the nose. There was a sickening crunch when her knuckles met his face. Wren had never really punched anyone before. But Harley made sure she knew how to do it right. Fingers tightly clenched with her thumb wrapped around the second and third knuckle. Wren broke his nose, not her hand. It felt better than she thought it would. Once the man was on the ground, his hands laced over his bleeding nose, Wren pulled out her knife. Tyreese grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back before she could do any damage with it.

"Let go," Wren complained as she tried to twist out of the big man's grip. That man on the ground had threatened her family. He would hurt her and Mika too if he had the chance. Wren had enough of playing nice with people that wanted to kill her. This man deserved to die.

"Stop," Tyreese argued back, "We don't just go around killing people. That's not what we do."

"He's right," Carol told the girl. Tyreese was right but not for the reasons he thought. Carol glanced at him before she added, "We need to see what he knows first."


	50. Chapter 50

Red River Blue

Chapter 50

As she watched Rick march up the metal steps into the train car, Harley cursed under her breath. She couldn't believe how stupid they had been. Even her. She had been so eager to believe in something. Anything. To believe hat there were still a few good people out there. Now look what was happening. They had walked right into a trap.

Rick looked back once at Carl before he stepped inside the train car. His face was a mix of emotions with his fear and concern for his son finally winning out over the anger and hatred for the people that had bested him. The dark shadows inside the car swallowed him. Daryl went next. When he glanced back at Harley he looked ashamed of himself. That hurt her heart. None of this was her uncle's fault.

Michonne went next. The man that was yelling at them from above called her the samurai. But at the moment she didn't look like one. She looked small and lost with only an empty sheath on her back instead of her sword.

Carl went in next, leaving Harley standing alone outside the traincar that was now going to serve as their prison cell. How long their imprisonment was going to last was yet to be determined.

Barbie. They called Carl a kid and they called her Barbie Doll. Harley was tall, blonde and she had a large chest. It wasn't the first time someone had made the comparison. The last boy that called Harley a doll had chipped a tooth on her knuckle when she punched him in his stupid smiling mouth. Harley clenched her fists. If she ever got ahold of the man that was hollering at her now he was going to lose a lot more than a tooth.

Harley lifted one foot and placed it on the bottom step. It was bright outside the traincar, so even though she squinted her eyes she had no idea what sort of fresh new horror waited for her inside. Men with guns approached her from behind. Harley assumed they were only planning to snap shut the metal door behind her. It took her by surprise when one of them grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down from the steps. Her damaged ribs sung as a thick cloth pressed down over her mouth, smothering her with the sickly sweet smell of whatever it was soaked in. Harley twisted and thrashed in the man's arms. She tried her best to get away but she could already feel herself fading in and out of conciousness. People were screaming her name from inside the train car. The voices were all blending and bleeding together but Harley could have sworn one of them was her mother's. No one else ever called her by her full name.

Time passed in a strange fog. Harley remembered being cold and wet. Then being warm again. She dreamed about her sister and how they used to fall asleep on the couch together watching old black and white movies on their crummy little television set waiting for their mother to get home from working at the club and tuck them both into bed. Her mom would come shuffling through the door in her bare feet, her high heeled shoes dangling from one hand. Her purse would be hanging over the other shoulder, crammed with cash that they would count out together the next morning while she and Wren drank cups of juice or hot cocoa and her mother sipped on a strong cup of coffee. Half of the money always went into a shoebox in the closet. That was the bakery fund.

When Harley woke up the first thing she noticed was that her face itched. The second thing she noticed was that she couldn't itch her face since her hand was cuffed to the frame of the bed that she was lying in. The feeling of being restrained caused instant panic. Harley started thrashing and yanking at the cuffs. Only one of her hands was bound, leaving the other one free. She twisted and pulled her wrist, trying to see if she could slip it out of the cuffs. The metal bit into her flesh painfully.

"Stop," a voice ordered, "You're going to hurt yourself doing that."

Harley turned towards the voice. A woman was speaking to her and for a moment Harley felt a small glimmer of hope rise up inside her. Maybe this woman had come to help her. She looked motherly, her soft brown hair fell forward over her shoulder in a long braid and she had a friendly smile on her face. But the woman only handed her a glass of water to drink before she sat down on the edge of the bed.

"My son is a handsome boy," the woman announced, "ever since he was little the girls used to chase after him. You're going to like him. I can tell."

Harley gulped down her water and forced herself to swallow all the insulting things she wanted to say to this woman along with it. Being rude was not going to get her released from the cuffs that were holding her prisoner. Even if this woman had fallen right out of the loony tree and hit every branch on the way down. Harley assumed that keeping her from the traincar and cuffing her to the bed must be the woman's sick way of playing matchmaker.

"I'd love to meet him," Harley lied. When she saw this woman's son the only thing he was going to be meeting was the business end of her knife. She yanked at the cuffs so that they rattled against the metal frame of the cheap bed. "Why don't you take these off and you can take me to meet him right now?," Harley suggested. She even smiled in her attempt to look as sweet and innocent as possible.

"Do I look stupid?," the woman asked. Harley shrugged and assumed the woman would rather not hear the answer to that question. "You will stay right here and I will bring him in to meet you," the woman informed her, "You're not getting set free until we are sure that we can trust you." Harley sighed. She figured getting lose wasn't going to be that easy but it had been worth a try. "I already got you ready so you don't need to worry about that," the woman added.

At the woman's announcement, Harley looked down at herself. She might have barfed if there was anything in her stomach to puke up. Not only was she wearing a dress. She was wearing a pink sundress. The kind of dress that girls wore to church with white sandals and little matching purses. Her feet were bare and when she kicked the thin blanket that had been covering her off, she saw that her toes had been painted with pink polish to match the dress. Not only had these people had the nerve to call her Barbie, this woman had treated her like one as well.

"I'm sure you're hungry," the woman announced cheerfully, ignoring the disgusted look on Harley's face, "Gareth should be due for his lunch break soon. I'll see that he comes up and eats with you."

"Sounds fucking delightful," Harley remarked. Not only was she dressed up like an idiot. Now she had a lunch date with the goblin king from Labyrinth. This day just couldn't get any better.

Harley hadn't really meant to make her last comment out loud. Sometimes she just lost control over her brain to mouth filter. It was a bad habit she had inherited from her father. Once the words were out she realized her mistake. The woman snapped her head in Harley's direction. The forced smile she had been plastering on her face disappeared. She moved faster than Harley would have expected for a woman of her age and body type. Quick as a flash she was on the other side of the bed, grabbing Harley by the face with one hand and brandishing a knife in the other.

Sunlight glinted off the tip of the blade. The way the woman jerked Harley's face made her boy twist with it. She sucked in a whistling breath as pain radiated out from her ribcage.

"Listen up you little bitch," the woman hissed, "you even think about talking to my son like that and you will be back down in the corall with the rest of the cattle." The woman pressed the knife against Harley's cheek hard enough that she could feel how sharp the blade was but not hard enough to cut her. "We are giving you a chance to be one of us. So you had better start showing some gratitude."

Harley nodded her head. She offered the woman up her most sincere apology. It was complete bullshit of course. But it satisfied the woman enough that she put the knife away and left the room.

"Crazy fuckin' bitch," Harley cursed. She wasn't going to wait for this woman's son to show up. Before the door to the room she was being held in even clicked shut Harley was on her knees yanking at the cuffs. The bedframe was metal. It looked cheap. Harley grabbed the cuffs with both hands and yanked back, putting all her weight into the pull to see if she could get the metal frame to bend or give a little. All it did was bruise her wrist more.

She wasn't going to be able to slide out of the cuffs either, they were on too tight and digging into the bones of her wrist. Harley was afraid she might break her wrist if she put anymore force into it so she stopped pulling and started looking for another way out. She was kneeling on the dress that psycho had put on her while she was passed out. The fabric was restricting her movements. Harley yanked the hem up and scooted a little to her right. Now that she was at a better angle, this time she gripped the metal bar she was cuffed to instead of the cuffs themselves.

The bed frame was of the comes in a box and you put it together yourself variety. She gripped hard and twisted, putting so much force behind her tug that when the bar actually twisted Harley's shoulder flung into the frame. The loud clang of metal echoed though the small room. Harley paused a moment and listened, hoping the noise hadn't alerted anyone to her escape attempt. After a few seconds she grabbed the bar and twisted it again. And again. Until finally it was unscrewed from the frame and there was a tiny gap between it and the other metal bar it had been fastened to. It wasn't enough space to get her free. In order to get any more wiggle room she would have had to take the entire bed apart.

Harley braced her bare foot on the bed frame and gripped the handcuffs with both her hands. She pulled back as hard as she could. She knew she only needed to bend the cheap metal a fraction in order to get free. When the edge of the cuffs slipped through the crack it sent her flying backwards head over heal onto the floor. She let out a long colorful string of curse words, her hands moving to brace her injured ribs.

Her clothes were no where to be found. But her boots were sitting by the closed door with a fresh pair of socks on top of them. Harley grabbed for the socks, yanking them onto her feet before she crammed her boots on. The woman left the knife she had been using to threaten Harley, on top of a dresser where she thought it would be out of reach. Harley snatched it up and adjusted her grip on the handle. She flattened herself against the wall and eased the door open, glancing out into the dimly light hallway to make sure no one was outside her door keeping watch.

When she found the hallway empty she slid through the door and shut it behind her. The sound of unfamiliar voices sent her scurrying down the hall and around the corner to avoid being seen. There was a set of stairs that led down. Harley wasn't sure where they led but she took them anyway. As she crept through the large building she racked her brain, trying to think of some way that she was going to be able to free her friends and family without being caught. Because she knew one thing for sure. She wasn't going anywhere without them.


End file.
